Revelations
by deliarium
Summary: Sequel to "Sanctuary." Price and McKinley face the challenges and realities of adulthood, which include figuring out the paths for their respective futures, as well as the increasingly complicated nature of their relationship to each other.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This is a sequel to my previous Book of Mormon story "Sanctuary," which I'd probably recommend reading before this. I own nothing, and reviews are always greatly appreciated._

**Chapter One**

* * *

Connor McKinley had been living at Kevin Price's apartment in Berkeley for quite some time now, and for the most part, it had been a rather seamless transition. Kevin's college friends, a few of whom with he also resided, had had virtually no issue with accepting him into their circle, since Connor was generally very well-mannered and organized and diligent. He even took it upon himself to micromanage all the household expenses and bills, as well as the delegation of chores and meal preparations, and he always made sure that the kitchen was stocked with proper supplies and never ran out of food for too long. As Kevin was already well aware of from mission, Connor was essentially a complete control freak, but he went about being one so enthusiastically and smilingly that nobody really minded.

In general, Connor had developed a system for nearly everything. It was one of the – he liked to think, many – reasons why he'd been chosen for district leader during his mission over other similarly qualified candidates. If you handed him almost any sort of mess or disorder, you could pretty much count on him to have it sorted, categorized, and alphabetized within a few hours, tops. He planned out which outfits he would wear at least a week in advance, he knew which meals he was going to eat each day, and he recorded of all his daily events in a hot pink planner and made friendly little Post-It notes to remind himself of them.

He didn't always stick to his systems. Sometimes, for instance, he would add a lively splash of color or a glittery bedazzlement to his daily attire just to feel spontaneous. And he was a lot less stringent about adhering to his systems after leaving the LDS church. But for the most part, having some sort of routine gave him a sense of peace, a feeling that he could at least control something in his life, which had become a lot more nebulous and uncertain nowadays.

He never expressed it out loud to anyone, not even Kevin, but he missed being in college. Before he dropped out he had been pursuing a degree in accounting, largely to appease his parents who considered it to be a respectable degree for a young Mormon boy, although his heart had never been truly in it. Mostly he missed the sense of security that the prospect of a degree afforded him, and he no longer had much of that.

So when Kevin and his friends discussed academics around the dinner table and commiserated over draconian professors and brutal midterms, he couldn't help but be slightly envious of these bright young people who knew what they wanted and, moreover, knew exactly how they were going to attain it. He had been in their position once, with clear-cut futures brimming with optimism, the graces of fortune shining behind their every word and gesture. Now...Connor wasn't even sure what he wanted out of life, much less how he was going to go about accomplishing any of it.

He did know that he desperately needed to make some money, so he went out with his determined face on and eventually landed a retail job at a local department store, as well as a weekend job waiting tables. In what spare time he had, he practiced dance and learned yoga and tai chi, which helped clear his mind of the multitude of stressors that accompanied his work. Occasionally he received offers to teach dance classes at an elementary school in a low-income neighborhood nearby, and that was when Connor finally discovered what his calling was in life.

"A dance instructor. I love dancing, I love children, and I love teaching. It's perfect."

"Then you should go for it," Kevin said.

Connor sighed, the light in his blue eyes dimming slightly. "Without a college degree? I doubt it."

"It can still happen. You can go back to school and get your BFA."

"I couldn't afford it, unless I happen to stumble into a sudden windfall of money, or my parents forgive me for being gay. Guess which one is more likely to happen?"

It was one of the only times since he'd begun staying there that Connor had mentioned his parents, or had that hard edge of bitterness to his voice. Kevin frowned, and the subject was thereafter dropped. Still, it was one matter that Kevin put in the back of his mind for future deliberation. Connor deserved to have a shot at his dream, and one way or another, Kevin was going to make sure he got it. He just had to think of a way.

* * *

On the bright side, Connor was gradually becoming more comfortable with being out. He hadn't yet reached the point of entering an actual relationship with anyone (the idea of which was still semi-terrifying to him), but he managed to flirt awkwardly with a boy he'd met a few times at work, and that he considered to be a pretty good milestone.

Mainly he was just happy that he could wear pink and sequins any time he wanted without people reproving him for it, and he learned to ignore the inevitable stares he sometimes got in public. Once at the supermarket he'd overheard some girl playfully informing her boyfriend that _real _men weren't afraid to wear pink. She then had winked at Connor, in a gesture of spiritual camaraderie.

One of Kevin's friends, Benjamin something, who was the president of the QSA at UC Berkeley, was very enthusiastic about helping Connor ease into the queer community there. "You should come talk to us at our next meeting!" he said to Connor, after Kevin introduced them. "I'm sure that many people there would be interested in hearing your story."

So Connor accepted the invitation and went, with no little trepidation. He had never done anything like this before, and he didn't know what to expect. He ended up dragging Kevin along with him, mostly so he'd have someone on standby if he happened to have a nervous breakdown and collapsed on the spot. Kevin thought the chance of this happening was highly unlikely, but Connor tended to get very insistent when he was anxious. At any rate, Connor seemed like he could probably use the moral support.

Connor didn't break down after all. In fact he was quite solemn when he got up to speak in front of everyone, looking somewhat small and unexceptional with his shoulders slightly hunched, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. Yet when he talked, his words were terse but poignant, every line resonating with significance and astonishingly free of self-pity or regret. He briefly recounted having his first crush in fifth grade, repressing his homosexuality for years under the church doctrine, his experiences in Uganda during his mission, being literally thrown out of his own home and disowned by his family, and struggling to reconcile what was left of his faith with his identity as a gay man. At the end they all clapped and said very kind things and Connor cried a little, because he had never put most of those feelings into words before. And even though he had already managed to convince himself, it was nice to be reassured that he wasn't a bad person, and that it was possible to believe in a God that didn't hate him.

Benjamin then broke them all up into small group discussions, which appeared to go swimmingly until Connor realized...he had almost no idea what any of them were talking about. While he vaguely felt that he _might_ agree with the overall sentiment of what people were saying, the majority of the terminology sailed right over his head. For the rest of the hour he put on his best Mormon missionary smile and tried to nod along and pretend like he wasn't totally lost.

"Don't worry, you'll catch on soon enough," Benjamin told him sympathetically after Connor pleadingly asked him after the meeting to explain what LGBTQ stood for, and what "intersectionality" meant, and a whole score of other questions that Connor had been too intimidated to raise during the discussions. He then asked Connor to elucidate a few tenets of the LDS dogma for him, probably so Connor wouldn't have to feel like a _complete_ idiot.

After that, Connor spent several nights poring over pamphlets, texts, and primers he had obtained from the meeting, frantically trying to catch up on decades' worth of queer criticism and history, as well as giving himself a crash course in modern feminism. It was an eye-opening experience.

"I should just wear a sign over my chest saying, 'Gay, ignorant, recently closeted ex-Mormon. Speak slowly and use small words when addressing.'"

"Everyone has to start somewhere," Kevin said, yawning. "Here, I'll do some of your reading if you can make sense of this stats problem set for me."

Connor was pretty good with numbers, which tended to be straightforward and logical and impossible to offend. So he accepted this exchange gratefully.

Nevertheless, it was pleasant to know that there was a vast community of people out there who had undergone experiences similar to his, and with whom he could talk about intensely personal matters. As understanding as Kevin was, when he wanted to be, it was sometimes hard for Connor to discuss certain things with someone he used to have _very _vivid sex dreams about. And still occasionally did, if he were to be perfectly honest with himself.

Eventually Connor even started incorporating more flashy rainbow themes into his regular attire. He always wanted the excuse, anyway.

* * *

Kevin already had his whole life mapped out for at least the next fifteen years. He was going to graduate at the head of his class as the University Medalist, attend medical school at either Harvard or Stanford and score top honors, do a residency in internal medicine and a subspecialty in infectious disease, and conduct humanitarian work overseas with MSF for a few years. And that was just the bare skeleton of his ambitions.

"So you're going to be insanely sleep-deprived for another decade, is what I'm hearing here," Connor remarked, after Kevin finished telling him his plan. Kevin, bless his heart, had even produced a twenty-page hard copy of it, complete with needlessly complicated flow charts and Venn diagrams. There were extensive footnotes.

"Basically," Kevin agreed. "Just FYI, we're going to need to stock up on coffee and Red Bull."

"Is there going to be room in your great plan for anybody else?" Connor asked lightly, while flipping through the pages.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh you know, a special someone..."

"Haven't you been listening to anything I've been saying? My career comes first, everything else is secondary. Anyway, see, I already wrote it right here towards the end – 'get married to somebody awesome and start a family before I'm fifty.'"

Connor glanced at the line in question. "You wrote that over a picture of Mila Kunis."

"It's a placeholder."

"Right..."

The truth was, Kevin was getting a bit tired of the local dating scene. Half the people he met seemed to hate his guts for being That Pre-Med his first year – the kind who highlighted his notes in three colors, stayed after every lecture to interrogate the professor, attended every office hours (even ones by appointment), and considerably jacked up the curve on exams. He had, to his credit, mellowed out over time and become much less competitive, but his reputation as a cutthroat had never completely receded despite his sincerest efforts. As for the other half, he wasn't having much luck finding people with compatible interests. Maybe because these tended to be the people who only liked him for rather shallow reasons, and became bored whenever he tried to engage in actual conversation with them.

Connor seemed to find this amusing. Connor usually seemed to find Kevin's suffering amusing, for some reason.

"It reminds me that you're human," Connor explained, when Kevin pointed this out one day.

Kevin frowned. "I'm not sure whether to interpret that as a compliment or an insult."

"Since your ego is currently in tatters, I'll let you have it as a compliment. Out of the goodness of my heart."

Kevin had noticed Connor's sassiness had gone up exponentially since he started living there with him. But it meant that Connor was happier, so he let it slide.

* * *

He rarely ever admitted this, but Kevin was rather glad for Connor's current presence in his life. In part it was a nostalgia thing, due to the bond they shared from undergoing the joys and ordeals of their mission together. His time in Uganda seemed so remote now, an aberrant interlude in a life otherwise filled with privilege and complacency. He wanted to remember that experience and hold onto it, as a reminder of the person he had become, and of what he was working for as a future physician. And it was something he could never really talk to any of his college friends about, because none of them could understand without having been there. He thought maybe Connor felt the same way, because neither of them had left Uganda without being radically transformed.

Another reason was that their friendship was possibly the only thing keeping him sane nowadays. Kevin was currently president of the Pre-Medical Honor Society and captain of the cross-country team, as well as an active member of eight other student organizations. And when he wasn't busy with all that and studying, he was helping to run a free clinic in the area that frequently demanded his undivided care and attention. It used to be that he could juggle all these activities almost effortlessly, but over time his commitments had been incrementally piling up, and the competition in his classes was intensifying to the point where he was starting to have serious doubts about fulfilling any of his ambitions. What was more, he'd secretly begun taking sleeping pills to alleviate his moderate insomnia.

When Connor found out, he made Kevin drop some of his extracurriculars and lighten his course load for the semester, and he severely restricted Kevin's caffeine intake.

"Also, you are going swing dancing with me on Friday nights. I don't care how much studying you have to do, you are going to have some _fun_ for once."

"Okay, Mom," Kevin said resignedly, because there was no arguing with Connor when he used that tone of voice. Connor had been trying to get Kevin to go dancing with him for months, and Kevin suspected Connor was at least a little bit delighted to finally have a way to coerce him into going.

Sometimes, in those moments when he was too exhausted to stop unwanted thoughts from creeping into his mind, Kevin pondered whether there should be something more to their relationship at this point. Certainly there were starting to be rumors, rumors that he frequently denied, and some of his friends had taken to calling him "Mr. McKinley" in jest when Connor wasn't around, to Kevin's chagrin. He knew that Connor had been in love with him, once, which was a subject they had never really broached again, because Connor had been close to tears when he'd confessed it. And after all, maybe it had just been a matter of circumstance – the lonely crush of a boy latching onto one of the few people around who knew and accepted him during his bitter struggle with coming out, and in an environment known to be hostile to people like him. But Connor was surrounded by plenty of accepting people now, and he had options that weren't open to him previously.

There was, for instance, that time Benjamin asked Kevin if it was alright for him to ask Connor out on a date.

Kevin was a bit taken aback by this. "I don't think _I'm_ the one you should be asking here."

"Okay. I was just wondering if you two were..." He trailed off, but the implication was clear.

"We're not."

"Oh. Good." He smiled, and Kevin smiled back and wondered why he suddenly felt like going off to lie face-down in a ditch somewhere.

Connor said yes, and he and Benjamin started casually dating for a few weeks, at which point Kevin threw himself into aggressively studying for his MCAT. This conveniently entailed holing himself up in his room with over a dozen bricklike practice books and not seeing much of the outside world for several hours a day. He told himself he was happy for them, because they were two of his best friends, and that meant he would support them and be their best man at their fantastically flamboyant wedding and the godfather to their garishly dressed children. Kevin's imagination could get pretty carried away at times.

During this period Kevin received a phone call that brightened his mood considerably. It was from Arnold, and he and Nabulungi were going to visit them soon from Salt Lake City. So that at least gave him a reason to look forward to tomorrow, which was a philosophy that had somehow forsaken him over the years.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"This is atrocious."

"Kevin, be nice," Connor said.

"I'm talking about all the spelling and grammatical mistakes. Heck, this is violating elementary rules that I forgot even existed until now."

"Well, I never did so hot in English when I was in school," Arnold admitted. "That's what I have you for, right?"

Arnold and Nabulungi were visiting Kevin at his apartment that weekend. Over the past year the two of them had been living in Salt Lake City, helping out Arnold's mother with her bakery business. In their spare time, though, they had been collaborating on a series of children stories, harnessing Arnold's over-active imagination and Nabulungi's flair for storytelling. They'd asked Kevin and Connor to edit the manuscript for them, and Kevin, to the surprise of no one, promptly took to attacking it mercilessly with a red pen. It wasn't out of any intrinsic mean-spiritedness on his part; it was just that Kevin Price had very high standards when it came to – well, pretty much everything – and out of fairness strove to apply those same high standards to others.

"There are a lot of interesting ideas in there, you can't deny that," Connor said kindly to a somewhat dejected-looking Arnold. "I especially liked the part where the protagonist and the space fairy princess learned to overcome their cultural differences to defeat the zombie pirate armada."

"That was my idea!" exclaimed Nabulungi.

"Yep, that was all hers," Arnold said, beaming at his girlfriend affectionately, which she returned with equal fervor. They had been doing this all night, Kevin noted with some amusement. Trying his best to suppress a laugh, he glanced at Connor and mimed a discreet gagging motion. Connor shot him back an admonitory look that read, _Oh stop it, it's sweet_. Privately, Kevin kind of agreed. He'd just never say it out loud.

Despite Kevin's fronting, he was secretly thrilled to see Arnold and Nabulungi again. It was a chance to catch up and revisit old memories, to laugh and jest and tease, to dredge up stupid inside jokes that everyone else in the world would consider them crazy for uttering. Connor had taken time out of his very busy schedule to hang out with them too, and that was maybe one of the best parts.

Recently Kevin had begun to feel a slight disconnect with Connor, which he supposed was inevitable. Ever since Benjamin had asked him out, Connor's self-esteem had blossomed incredibly, and even though they'd parted ways amicably after a few weeks, the experience seemed to be the confidence boost Connor had needed to venture out into the brave new world of singles dating. This of course meant that Connor didn't have to depend on him solely for company anymore. Which was a good thing, Kevin reminded himself every time Connor brought home a new boy and Kevin had to tamp down the urge to size him up like an overprotective father. Connor was finally coming into his own life, and change was a natural element of that.

There were some things that hadn't really changed though, like Connor's uncanny tendency to zero in on anything Kevin did that was remotely bad for himself.

"Haven't you had enough to drink today?" Connor said sharply. At dinner, Kevin had broken out the champagne in honor of Arnold and Nabulungi's visit, even though he was the only one of the four who wasn't still a strict teetotaler.

"I'm under my limit. Jeez, Connor."

"Tell Arnold and Nabulungi about the time you drank a little too much at a party and woke up half-naked and locked inside a stranger's broom closet at four in the morning."

"Yes, Kevin, do tell us," Nabulungi entreated with a mischievous smile.

"I'd rather not." Kevin glared in warning at Connor, who just laughed.

"There were also _scandalous _pictures of Kevin drunkenly making out with his biology TA that night."

"_Former _biology TA. And in my defense, she's not that much older than I am."

"And I used to think of you as my role model," Arnold said, shaking his head almost pityingly.

"Oh haha, sure, let's all have a laugh at Kevin's expense, we've haven't done enough of _that_ lately," Kevin said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Why don't we ever make fun of Connor for a change?"

"'Cause you're such an easy target."

"I'm gay, I have immunity."

"Anyway, we didn't come all the way here to make fun of Kevin, although that _is_ fun," Nabulungi said. She took Arnold's hand in hers. "Arnold and I have something to announce."

"We're getting married!" Arnold burst out. He'd never been one for building up dramatic tension.

"Get out!" Connor exclaimed, nearly falling back in his chair. Kevin, for his part, had been rendered a bit speechless. "Show me the ring, I want to see."

Nabulungi obliged. "We are planning to have a big wedding here and also a small ceremony back in Uganda."

"And I want Kevin to be my best man," Arnold said. "I mean, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah...yeah, of course. I'd be honored to," said Kevin, having finally recovered his power of speech. "Congratulations, you guys, that's awesome."

"Gosh, look at you two, all grown up and leaving the nest," Connor remarked, looking a little misty-eyed. He took a hold of both Arnold and Nabulungi's hands with an extremely grave expression on his face. "As your former mission leader, I am going to give you guys my official blessing. You two were like my idea of a real-life fairy tale romance, and I pray that you will live happily ever after and endure no serious hardships for the rest of your days."

"No pressure or anything."

"You're ruining the moment, Kevin."

* * *

"I hope you'll be able to remember her name when it comes to exchanging vows," Kevin said, sitting cross-legged on the edge of his bed. Arnold was perusing his movie collection and growing increasingly alarmed at the huge gaps in Kevin's viewing history ("Not even _one _sci-fi film? Seriously, Kev?").

"Na-bu-lun-gi Ha-tim-bi," Arnold enunciated. "Don't worry, I'm gonna write it on my hand in case I get nervous and forget."

Kevin laughed. "I'm really happy for you, buddy."

"Thanks. It feels like everything in my life is finally coming together for me, you know?"

"I wish I knew," Kevin said, more to himself than anything. Arnold cocked his head in inquiry. "It all feels so - surreal, somehow. I mean, Elder Michaels and Elder Davis both got married right after coming back from mission, and now you're getting married, too. It's crazy."

"It'll be your turn one day, Kevin. Connor told me that lots of people here are wild about you."

"He said that?" Kevin asked in surprise. "Well, I think he must have been exaggerating a little."

"Hm, maybe."

"You know, there once was a time when I thought I would at least be engaged by now. It was all in the plan, to meet some nice girl at BYU, get married before we graduated, and someday raise lots of smiling, well-bred Mormon children together. That was what my friends and family always envisioned for me."

"And now your plan is to go around the world curing AIDS and fighting all sorts of weird diseases. You'll be like James Bond, only a doctor."

"I was thinking more like Gregory House, but Bond works for me too. My point is, if I'm going to accomplish everything I want to in life, being in a committed relationship right now is just not a feasible option."

"You sound like you've thought this through a lot."

"I have. And every time it's given me the same answer. I don't foresee myself _actually_ settling down to do the whole white picket fence and nuclear family thing, even if I do get married at some point. And it's very possible I may not even decide to get married at all." Kevin heaved a long sigh. "My family was pretty upset when I told them, even after I said that I wanted to become a doctor and do incredible things with my life. You'd think any parent would be thrilled to hear their kid say something like that, but nope, I get assailed with the guilt trip."

"My folks were kind of the same way at first, when I told them I just wanted to write books and stuff for a living. But meeting Nabulungi might have helped change their minds a little. What does Connor think about it?"

"He thinks I'm digging myself into an early grave. But other than that, he's been pretty much supportive. Obviously his plans ended up changing a lot, too."

"He does seem kind of different now. He's much more...relaxed, I guess. I think you were good for him."

"I think probably just being in a more open-minded environment was good for him. He was being stifled, where he was previously living."

"And while you're off changing the world again, what is _he_ going to be doing?"

"I don't know..." Kevin admitted. "I guess he'll just be here."

It was a thought that bothered him more than it should. He had no reason, after all, to believe that Connor would want anything to do with his plans. Besides, Connor had his own future to think about.

* * *

"Okay, you've got to tell me all the details of how he proposed to you," Connor said to Nabulungi, as they salsa danced together around the living room. The sultry vocals of Ricky Martin were currently blaring from Kevin's stereo. "Was it _very_ romantic? Did he reference Lord of the Rings or Star Wars at any point?"

"Oh, I proposed to him," Nabulungi said, giggling. "If I were to wait for him to do it, we would never get married."

"A woman with initiative! I've always liked that about you."

"I only wish that Baba were here to see me get married," she said plaintively, lowering her eyes.

Nabulungi's father had passed away during the last few months of Connor's mission. It was a time Connor remembered quite vividly, try as he might to forget. Nabulungi had been nearly inconsolable, Arnold had been constantly by her side with reassuring kisses that went unheeded, and Kevin had been very grim, locking himself in his room for several days. Connor's faith in a benevolent higher power had been tested many times over the course of his mission, but never as much as when he'd gazed upon the lifeless corpse of Mafala Hatimbi and the grief-stricken face of his daughter.

"I'm sorry," Connor said, because there was nothing else one _could _say to that.

Nabulungi shook her head. "It is in the past. I am sure that wherever he is now, he is happy for me. Mama as well."

"We're all happy for the both of you, Nabulungi." He led her through a cross body lead and travelling inside turn, smiling as she glided herself back gracefully into closed position.

Her expression suddenly became very sly. "But enough about me and Arnold. What about you and Kevin?"

"There is no me and Kevin. Not in the way you're thinking, I presume."

"Oh, don't say that," she implored. "I have a bet going with Arnold that you two would _finally_ get together this year."

Connor couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well, I'm afraid you're probably going to have to lose that bet. We're still just very good friends."

"But I can see in your eyes when you look at him, that you want to be something more."

"Nabulungi...please don't."

"All right, I will not pry," she said hastily. "You are a very good teacher, by the way."

"Thank you."

"It's such a shame that all your talent must go to waste. Do you not have a dream, like Kevin does? He speaks of his all the time."

"Well, I'm not Kevin. I do have a dream, it's just...not in the cards right now. Maybe not ever."

Nabulungi nodded thoughtfully. "When I was a little girl, I only had one dream, and that was to go to a shining paradise far, far away, where I could be happy. Now I am living in Utah with Arnold, and even though it isn't quite the paradise I imagined as a girl, I am with a man I love, and I can have many more dreams. Like writing stories that will make people happy when they read them. It is funny, isn't it, how life can sometimes answer your prayers in ways you never expected it to." She met his gaze with piercing, steadfast eyes. "Do not give up on your dream, Connor."

He managed a slight smile. "I'll try not to."

"Good." Suddenly she stopped their dance and released hold of him, as the last strains of music faded. Then she tip-toed very close to him.

"And don't give up on Kevin, either," she whispered very softly in his ear.

* * *

Connor was on his laptop, looking at a spreadsheet in which he kept inventory of his personal finances. Arnold and Nabulungi had already departed for the airport that morning, which meant that things were back to business as usual.

He hesitated, then clicked to add another row near the bottom. Into the first empty cell he typed the word "College."

It was a start, at least. Even if he had a feeling he'd be wallowing somewhere in the negatives for a while.

As for Kevin...well, that was a bridge he had crossed and re-crossed, many times. There were some things that even Nabulungi couldn't understand.

Like the fact that for once in his life, he didn't have that sense of guilt hanging over him like a shroud all the time. He found that it was getting easier for him to flirt openly with boys, to identify himself publicly as gay without stumbling over the word or feeling the impulse to ritualistically cleanse himself afterwards. He knew what it was like now to express desire, and to be desired – to submit himself entirely to someone else without worrying about the consequences, about the concept of sin or eternal damnation, even about whether that person would still be there the next day.

It was different with Kevin, somehow. The part of his brain that used to scream "off-limits" whenever Connor looked at attractive boys was still perpetually active when it came to Kevin, and Connor didn't think it had all that much to do with his gender anymore.

"You and Nabulungi seemed awfully close last night," said Kevin, who had suddenly appeared from behind him. "What were you two discussing?"

"How annoying it is when the people we live with just barge into our rooms without knocking." Connor clicked out of his windows and spun around in his chair with his arms folded, in one swiftly fluid motion.

"Okay fine, don't tell me. Anyway, I just realized that I'm going to have to throw Arnold a bachelor party at some point. Which, let's be honest, is going to end up being pretty tame, considering all his friends are former missionaries. It'll probably be us playing Parcheesi or something."

"What, were you hoping to get a stripper?"

"Is there one that dresses up like Princess What's-Her-Name from Star Wars? Otherwise, I doubt Arnold would be very into that."

"You are _not_ getting Arnold a stripper. And honestly there probably shouldn't be alcohol, either."

"No strippers, got it. Just you wait though, I'm still going to find some way to make this the best bachelor party ever."

"I'm sure you will."

"Weirdly enough, all of this has me feeling sort of nostalgic for our mission again. Want to marathon all three Lion King movies tonight? I think I'm over my bitterness towards them."

"I would, but I have a date," Connor said, sounding torn.

"Your date is more important than watching Simba grow up, defeat his evil uncle, and gain back the family and legacy he lost as a kid?" Kevin scoffed. "Priorities, Connor."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

"No, go on your date. I'll just watch them by myself, along with this tub of double fudge mint chocolate chip ice cream I recently bought. But I wanted to let you know what you are missing out on."

Connor smiled wanly after Kevin's retreating back. "I think I have a pretty good idea."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

History would remember this as one of those rare times when Kevin Price, normally the epitome of self-confidence, felt like he was doomed to be a complete failure.

It was the week when MCAT scores were supposed to come out, and Kevin was, to put it mildly, a nervous wreck. His whole elaborate, meticulously crafted future was riding on the outcome of this exam (or at least that was how it seemed to him). If it were only a general case of jitters and low expectations he could have dealt with that easily, but the inescapable fact of the matter was...he was not very sure how he had done.

He had strolled into the examination room with a megawatt smile and an exaggerated swagger, feeling optimistic that months of feverish late-night studying were finally about to pay off – and had slunk out several hours later feeling like his ass had just been thoroughly kicked.

"I mixed up the definitions of _diastereomerism_ and _structural isomerism_," he bemoaned to Connor later that day, after downing half a package of Sunny D. (Connor wasn't about to trust him near anything caffeinated or alcoholic for at least a week.) "_How _do you mix up diastereomerism and structural isomerism? Connor, tell me I'm an idiot."

"You're an idiot."

"And you're a lousy friend."

"I don't understand you sometimes," Connor said, leaving Kevin to mope by himself.

That was it, then. He was not going to break 35 on his MCAT, possibly not even 30. He was not going to get into Harvard, Stanford, Yale, or any of the medical schools he had been planning to apply to. He was not going to have his summer home in Orlando, Florida, and he was going to die penniless, alone, and miserable, with barely anything to show for his legacy on Earth.

On top of it all, he had come down with a severe cold. As if Kevin _really_ needed another piece of evidence to solidify his burgeoning atheism.

It didn't help that Connor's annoying boyfriend of the moment insisted on hanging out at their apartment all the time, either. If anything, it was exacerbating Kevin's already pretty crummy mood.

Connor had met his new boyfriend Wesley at work about three months ago, when he'd noticed a long-haired boy coming into the store to buy a large number of clothes, striking up some friendly conversation while Connor rang him up, and then returning all of the items the following week. Ordinarily this wouldn't have caught Connor's attention, if it weren't for the fact that he had done this seven times.

Finally Connor, who was more than a little bemused at this point, one day ventured to ask why he kept coming if he didn't actually like any of their outfits. The boy confessed that he was only really using it as an excuse to talk to him, and that he was trying to work up the courage to ask Connor out.

Connor thought that was one of the most romantic things he had ever heard someone say to him. Kevin thought that sounded a bit stalkerish, if you asked him. Of course, no one did.

But Connor seemed to take a liking to him anyway, and so Kevin had to keep the majority of his snide commentary to himself, even though he was really, really starting to despise the guy.

It had been bad enough when Connor was seeing one of his friends, but at least he knew Benjamin to be a decent person. Wesley was a painter who purported to specialize in the nude male form (Kevin had politely declined to see his portfolio, as well as Wesley's generous offer to paint him, so he couldn't verify this), and apparently he was an amateur philosopher to boot. These qualities appealed immensely to Connor and his artistic sensibilities. Kevin, who knew how to draw stick figures and nearly dozed off in intro philosophy every lecture, didn't think any of that was such a big deal.

Wesley had come over for dinner at their place this week, and Kevin couldn't decide whether the nausea fluctuating inside him was more attributable to his illness, or having to listen to Wesley pontificate about the virtues of "philosophia" for upwards of an hour. Connor, on the other hand, appeared to be hanging onto his every word.

"In _Symposium_, Socrates maintains that philosophy is in fact the ultimate expression of love. It is the culmination of humanity's inherent desire for immortality, beyond just the physical act of procreation."

"Yeah, and look where that got him," Kevin remarked, not even bothering to conceal a yawn.

Connor kicked him under the table.

"Ow!"

"You were saying?" Connor said pleasantly.

"And of course, the ancient Greeks did not view homosexuality as a sin. Back in those days the relationship between an older Athenian male and a young, nubile boy was encouraged, even idealized. Yet Plato believed that _eros_, the passionate love one feels upon seeing an object of desire, was but a mere conduit for how one could go about conceptualizing true Beauty." Wesley then grasped one of Connor's hands and gazed fervently into his eyes. "Perhaps soon _you_ can be that conduit for me, Connor McKinley."

"That's...very sweet."

"Excuse me, I am literally going to be sick," Kevin said, getting up from his chair.

He thought he saw Connor shoot him a glare as he left, but by then he had too much of a raging headache to care.

* * *

"Somebody's a little cranky today," Connor said, later confronting Kevin in the bathroom.

"Ugh. Go away." Kevin was rummaging the cabinets for cold medication and decongestants, and so far had only succeeded in hacking bacteria all over the sink. Connor reached up to swipe the pertinent items from the top shelf and handed them to him, lifting his eyebrows.

"You're just reinforcing my point. I know you don't like Wesley, but at least _try_ to be civil for a little while. He's going to be staying here the night."

"I feel deathly ill, everything tastes like crap to me, I'm waiting on the most important test results of my _life_, and all you can think about is screwing your pretentious boyfriend?" Kevin snapped, then immediately regretted it after seeing the somewhat hurt expression on Connor's face. "I'm sorry, that was out of line."

"Apology accepted. Now go get some rest, and God help you if I catch you sneaking out to check your test results."

Kevin went to his room in defeat, coughing and sniffling along the way.

Connor waited until the sounds of Kevin's footfalls had dissipated to begin inspecting himself critically in the mirror. Whatever Kevin thought about it, Connor _was_ kind of hoping to get some action tonight. There was only one issue nagging at his mind: Wesley had made it clear through implication that he was expecting to be seduced. Connor was still fairly new at this whole seduction business, and he was used to be on the receiving end. He had no experience with being the pursuer, and with how one went about making oneself appropriately beguiling.

He wondered how Kevin had gone about seducing his girlfriends. Kevin had never been one for sweeping romantic gestures. He probably got straight to the point with his dates, whispering low and indecorous things in their ears, grabbing at them in the dark, holding them down and tearing off their clothing in a torrid frenzy of sweat and lust and...

...Well, _that_ train of thought had derailed rather quickly.

Connor shook himself, trying to steer back his focus. He might as well just stick to the classics. Put on some light mood music, do some mildly (but not _too_) provocative dancing, sway his hips a little, and pray to God that he didn't come off like a moron.

He considered applying a hint of cologne as well, but all of Kevin's had been gifts from people who must have had either truly horrid taste or impaired olfactory ability, so he opted for some nice scented lotion instead. It smelled of vanilla and lilacs, and that was a momentary balm to Connor and his extremely frayed nerves.

* * *

Kevin sneezed as he continued scrolling through the contacts list on his phone. Since Connor "Traitor" McKinley had forsaken him for the time being, Kevin was aching for some sort of alternate social interaction. The problem was that he didn't know who would be able, or even willing, to fulfill that role. All of his college friends were tired of hearing him whine to them about his MCAT, and had told him so, quite vehemently. Arnold was presently held up with preparations for his wedding, as the date was looming close. Family was a possibility, but Kevin was in no mood right now to be proselytized at or reprimanded for his disappointing life choices.

He thought about calling up Janice, the last serious girlfriend he'd had, to maybe get back in touch with her. Then he remembered they hadn't exactly ended their relationship on the best of terms. During their last date in an extravagant, black tie sort of restaurant (which was the kind of place Janice liked, and which had been far too excessive for Kevin's meager college student budget), they had been discussing potential travel destinations for a romantic winter getaway. This led to them arguing about favorite locations, which – naturally – led to Kevin waxing poetic about a certain metropolis on the East Coast.

"Really, Kevin, if you keep going on like that, I'm going to be afraid you like _Orlando _more than you like me," she said, laughing a little.

"Of course I do."

She threw a glass of chardonnay in his face.

Connor came to pick him up later that evening, after Kevin managed to rinse all the wine out from his hair. (Janice, unfortunately, had been the one to drive them.) His only comment when Kevin told him what had happened was, "Just so you know, I'm adding this to my list of Reasons Why Kevin Price Can't Keep a Girlfriend."

"Please don't tell me you actually wrote out a list."

"I believe we're up to 27 now."

Connor could sometimes be so aggravating.

Never mind, Kevin decided, he was just going to lie there, dying on his bed. Not thinking about his MCAT. Not thinking about med school. Not thinking about his life that was currently falling around him in shambles.

Definitely not thinking about Connor, or the fact that he was planning to have sex with his stupid boyfriend tonight. Kevin himself hadn't gotten laid in a long time. Maybe that was why he was feeling so frustrated lately.

Kevin had drifted off into an uneasy sleep by the time Connor came to his room, handling a bowl of soup he had just heated up. So he didn't notice the shades of conflicting emotions that passed over Connor's face then, for the briefest of moments...and if Connor appeared to say something in a quiet voice as he pulled the blanket over Kevin's shivering shoulders, well, that was probably just his imagination.

* * *

The next morning found Connor half-slumped over in his chair, staring blearily at an uneaten bowl of cereal that was getting soggier by the minute. He hadn't slept much at all last night, and not for the reason he had been anticipating.

Mission Seduction had been a certifiable failure. Connor had managed to get as far as romancing Wesley to his bedroom (which thankfully had not involved a whole lot of talking on his part) and lifting the latter's shirt off before losing his head entirely, blurting out in the midst of an attempted make-out session, "We should break up."

Which, as far as break-ups rated, was pretty terrible. But at least there was the – admittedly dubious – consolation of still being less dire than most of Kevin's relationship faux pas.

No, his utter exhaustion this morning was all due to Kevin, as most exasperations in his life consistently were. Him and his stupid face and his stupid adorable manner of sleeping and the stupid feelings he inspired just when Connor thought that he might finally start to be getting over him. Connor didn't want to know what it said about him that he'd been having lustful thoughts about someone who was trying not to cough up phlegm two rooms over, but there it was.

This was like fifth grade all over again, except worse because his fantasies had been relatively tamer back then, if only because of inexperience. Now he wasn't sure if some of the things he thought about were even legal.

He decided he was just going to have to tell Kevin the truth, because this was getting out of hand pretty rapidly. But what exactly did one say in this situation, that wouldn't only make things completely awkward? His mental faculties had all but deserted him at this juncture.

_Hey Kevin, remember how I once told you I didn't have feelings for you anymore? Well, about that..._

_Hey Kevin, I don't know if you're actually into men or not, and you've never expressed any sort of romantic interest in me before, but on the off chance that you're not just ambiguously heterosexual, there's a currently available, willing candidate for your first gay experience right here..._

_Hey Kevin, not to sound like a total creep, but I really just want you to ravish me on this table._

Connor groaned and buried his face in his hands. Why did Kevin Price have to make everything in his life so difficult? Moreover, why hadn't Connor learned his lesson the first time around about never falling in love with his best friend?

_Look Connor, you are just going to tell him, straight out. You are going to be cool, and you are not going to sound desperate, or needy, or clinically insane._

Kevin chose that moment to rush into the room and haul Connor out of his chair, proceeding to waltz him around wildly until Connor's head spun. Connor's cereal fell to the floor, seeming destined to be forever neglected.

"Have you gone completely out of your _mind?_" Connor cried over the gleefully incoherent noises Kevin was making.

_"I got a 39 on my MCAT!"_

"That's amazing, Kevin!"

"God, Harvard is so close, I can almost _taste _the ink on their acceptance letter. From now on, no more distractions! I'm going to start working on applications right away. You have to promise me, Connor, not to let _anything _come in between me and my work."

"I promise," said Connor, who was feeling a strange mixture of elation, relief, and...something else.

Kevin ran outside whooping and jumping for joy, and Connor had to go drag him back in before he started hugging random strangers on the street.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Warning for brief non-con, although it's in a fantasy context._**  
**

**Chapter Four**

* * *

The sweltering Ugandan heat pounded relentlessly against Kevin's sweat-drenched skin as he trudged down the path towards the missionary house. He felt like he had been walking for ages, but thankfully the end was finally in sight. Strangely though, he had no recollection of where he had just come from, or what he had been doing before this, but some dim instinct was telling him that he needed to be back with the others.

"Hello?" Kevin called out upon entering the living quarters. He was greeted with complete silence.

Feeling a bit perturbed, Kevin went to check the hallway and the bedrooms, all of which were disconcertingly free of any smiling missionaries. What was even more perplexing was how _clean_ everything was. Even with Connor badgering everyone to take care of their messes, that was generally a rarity around here. "Hello?" he said again, raising his voice a little more this time.

Then he heard the sound of Connor's voice projecting from the kitchen. "Elder Price! Can you come over here? I need your help with something."

"Oh...sure." Relief washed over him. Surely if Connor was here, things must be at least somewhat under control.

Connor was leaning against the back wall of the kitchen when Kevin found him, though he wasn't appearing to be doing anything in particular. His eyes were closed, and he was languidly rocking his hips back and forth in a slow, pulsating rhythm.

"What did you want me to do?" Kevin asked, walking up to him. Connor's reply came in the form of a long and blissful sigh. Kevin had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

He cast a quick look around, frowning to himself. The whole house was suspiciously quiet except for the sound of Connor's shallow breathing, and Connor himself was acting kind of strange. Kevin wasn't sure why none of the other Elders seemed to be around. Or why he had the vague sense that he wasn't even supposed to be here, either.

Or why Connor had just slipped his hand down Kevin's pants.

"W-what are you doing?" Kevin exclaimed in alarm.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Connor answered, with a teasing smile. His hand was roaming in lazy, torturous circles around certain parts of Kevin's anatomy, which were reacting in a way that was very, very unnerving.

"You are seriously _freaking me out_, that's what you're doing. What's gotten into you?"

"I want you, Elder," breathed Connor in a low and most un-Connorish voice, his free hand grasping at Kevin's tie. His face, abnormally flushed with color, was so close that Kevin could almost sense the heat emanating from it. "I want to feel you inside me and all over me, fucking me until I can't even see straight. And deep down, I know you want it, too."

Kevin blinked, staggering back a little. A light seemed to go off in his head. "Okay, uh – uh – I'm dreaming. That's right, you are a figment of my stress-addled, hormone-fueled imagination and none of this is real and holymotherofchrist what is it that you are doing with your fingers, _stop it right now_."

"You tell me. This is _your _wet dream." Connor – or the dream version of him, anyway – reeled Kevin in by his tie and kissed him full on the mouth. Kevin tried to protest, but Connor's wandering tongue made it very difficult, if not impossible.

After a few more moments of resistance Kevin decided that he might as well just give in, because his subconscious seemed inexplicably determined to keep up this twisted vision. So he angled his head in an effort to deepen the kiss, provoking an exultant response from the other boy. Then, since everything else about this was already pretty damn weird, he laced his hands in Connor's hair and drew him closer. Connor laughed softly against his mouth, continuing to fondle Kevin at an agonizingly leisurely pace.

Finally Kevin had had enough, and he broke off the kiss with the demeanor of a diver coming up for air. Connor just stood there gazing at him, his hair slightly mussed at the edges and his eyes shining with amusement and lust.

"Hey, as long as we're doing this, do you think you could maybe go down on me?" Kevin asked tentatively. "Please," he added, because he did still have manners.

"Anything you want, Kev." Connor slid onto his knees in cheerful compliance, drumming his fingers flirtatiously down Kevin's chest. He then tossed his hair theatrically and shot Kevin a seductive grin while undoing the latter's pants.

Kevin was in equal measures disturbed and aroused. And then even more disturbed for being aroused.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how pleasantly warm Connor's breath was.

After some time Kevin had enough evidence to conclude that dream Connor gave extremely good head. Real Connor should be flattered that Kevin's subconscious graciously endowed him with such ability, except that Kevin would rather die before Connor found out about any of this.

"Find out that you're secretly having gay thoughts about me?" Connor said blithely, taking a respite. "Maybe you should have heeded my advice after all about turning it off."

"Hahaha you're _so _funny. Just shut up and finish before my rational brain kicks in and I wake up from this."

"Tsk, tsk. You need to learn a little patience, Kevin." But he returned to his task with renewed vigor, and Kevin leaned his head back and shuddered out the rest of his arousal.

Connor was evidently a swallower in Kevin's imagination. Kevin really did _not _need to know that.

"I hate you so much," Kevin said as Connor got back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Are you sure it's me you hate?"

"I'm feeling thoroughly disgusted with myself as well."

Connor deftly re-fastened Kevin's tie, which had come undone at some point. "I just gave you the best fucking blowjob you've ever received in your entire life, Kevin Price. Show some respect."

Kevin couldn't really argue with that. Although that was partly because Connor had then flung his arms around him, kissing Kevin more fiercely and hungrily than he had before. Before he knew it Kevin was stumbling forward and returning the kiss just as passionately, and Connor had been thrown back against the wall with a gasp as his clothes were stripped away and Kevin's body lodged itself up against his. Connor's ragged breaths came in increasingly quick, staccato-like bursts as Kevin forced himself into him, the sound of Kevin's name spilling reverently from his lips like a gentle prayer...

* * *

Kevin woke with a start and groaned, slamming his palm against his face. He had apparently fallen asleep at his desk while working, which was becoming something of a regular occurrence nowadays. The surface of his desk was littered with a disarray of pencils, textbooks, and application materials, as well as his failed attempts at personal statements. He had been in the middle of his fifteenth re-write when he'd dozed off, and that one didn't seem to have been going very well, either. Really, there were only so many innovative variations Kevin could think up on "Here are the myriad ways in which I am awesome and like to help people, so for the love of God please, please accept me."

At any rate, these weird dreams about Connor were going to have to stop. He didn't know if it was the stress, or the months of near-celibacy, but he was feeling _insanely_ horny lately and Connor somehow had become an unfortunate casualty of that. It must be getting pretty bad if he'd sunken to the point of having erotic dreams about one of his close friends.

He hadn't had one set back in Uganda before though, so that was new. Usually it was some part of their apartment or Kevin's university that they were defiling, which meant that Kevin afterwards had to steer clear of that area for days.

Kevin sighed. This was seriously beginning to be a problem, especially if he didn't want to put an uncomfortable strain on their friendship. Maybe if he tried _really _hard to believe in God again, he could go back to having hell dreams for a while. Then again, Connor had tended to be kind of prominent in those, too.

There was a knock at his door as Kevin pulled on a clean set of clothes. "Kevin?" Of course it was Connor, because Kevin's life had become the breeding ground for a Shakespearean farce.

With some reluctance Kevin opened the door, deliberately trying to avoid direct eye contact. The sight of Connor's innocently enthusiastic smile was not helping his conscience.

"Oh good, you're here. I wanted to tell you about –" Connor stopped and looked Kevin up and down. "Gosh, you look terrible." He probably did, considering how tired he felt and how hurriedly he'd gotten dressed. Kevin glanced down and saw that most of his shirt was untucked.

"Hey, Connor." _No, I wasn't just having a gay sex dream about you, don't be absurd._ "Is something wrong?" Connor looked slightly out of breath, and his eyes were bright.

"No, nothing's wrong. But I have to tell you about something that happened today..." He sat down on Kevin's bed, and Kevin (after sternly instructing his subconscious not to make anything crude of this) went to join him. Connor seemed in a daze about something.

"You know how I was asked to teach dance for that elementary school class again today?"

"Yeah...what happened, did one of them have a Billy Elliot moment?"

"No, although that _is_ one of my life goals. I did do something that might have changed one of their lives a little bit. I mean, I hope it did. It would have changed mine, at least."

"Now you're rambling. Start at the beginning."

"Okay, I will..."

* * *

Connor was feeling quite contented that morning. The spring weather was refreshingly cool and not too damp after a week of light rain, the virginal sweetness of nascent blossoms suffused the air with their delicate and sprightly fragrance, and he was wearing a lightweight print scarf that fluttered about him like a mist of kaleidoscopic colors when he danced. It was one of those kinds of days when he just felt like running and twirling around aimlessly à la Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music – but as a responsible, mature adult, that wouldn't be setting a very good example.

Today he had decided he would teach the class a few line dances, which he found were always popular with children. In the middle of walking them through the Electric Slide, Connor noticed one of the boys was sitting out on the bench, hunched over with his knees up and wearing a glum expression. During the five-minute break Connor approached him in concern.

"Miguel, why aren't you out there with the rest? You're one of the best dancers."

Miguel shrugged, still staring gloomily at his feet. "Some kids on my street told me that dancing is gay."

"Oh..."

Connor immediately wished that someone else were here to handle this, because he was one of the last people in the world who should be counseling on this particular subject. Any of the guys he had previously dated would have known what to do. Even Kevin might have had an inspirational platitude or two he could dole out in these times of emergency.

But no one was there to bail him out, and Miguel looked as if the entire world had come crashing down around him. So Connor sat down next to him on the bench and folded his hands in his lap, desperately racking his brain for things he could say.

"Is that bad?" Miguel asked. "My sister said it was. She said gay people are all weird and scary."

"Your sister doesn't know anything. Liking to dance doesn't make you gay. And even if it did, there's nothing wrong with that, either. Being gay isn't...um...it's not a bad thing." Connor tried to still his trembling hands. "I'll let you in on a little secret, if you promise not to spread it around too much. _I'm_ gay."

"Really? But you're not scary at all."

Connor smiled slightly. "Well, you should see me before I do my hair in the mornings."

"And people don't say mean things about you?"

"Sometimes they do. And it does hurt, but...I move past them. It's like with dancing – things don't always go right and people may laugh at you, but you learn to adapt, and that's what makes you better."

"But what if it's hard?" Miguel said, still doubtful.

"The only way to live is to keep on dancing even when it's hard, and even when everyone tells you that you're wrong. You can't let all the bad moments stop you from being who you are, because the alternative is worse...and far more painful."

"I guess that makes sense."

"I'm glad it does." Though relieved would probably be a more accurate term, Connor thought. He then adopted an authoritative tone, which Kevin usually called his "district leader voice." "Anyway, if someone ever says that to you again, you need to tell an adult and let them take care of it, okay? Because it's not nice in the way a lot of people mean it. And secondly, just remember that being called gay isn't _really _bad, so – so you should just associate it in your head with phrases that mean good things. Like awesome, or amazing, or fabulous."

Miguel nodded. "It means I'm like you, right?"

"Um, sure...I guess if you see that as a good thing. Now you should go back and dance with the others. Shoo, I don't want to see you moping here any longer."

"Okay." Miguel beamed at him and ran off, looking significantly uplifted.

Connor let out a long breath that he hadn't even known he had been holding in the whole time, and ran a hand through his hair. Then he got up and left.

* * *

Kevin threw a pillow at him. "That is sickeningly adorable, and I'm proud of you. You handled that really well."

"Do you have any idea how much different my life might have been if someone had said those things to me when I was ten?" Connor demanded. "I'm getting kind of upset just _thinking_ about it."

"Yeah, well...just think, after you become a bona fide dance teacher, no student of yours is ever going to be made to feel bad for being called gay."

"_If_ I become a teacher, you mean."

"Are you still worried about that? It's going to happen eventually. I mean, you've been saving up."

"I guess." Connor all of a sudden seemed very interested in the lines on his hands. "Anyway, I didn't want to take up too much of your time. I know you have a lot on your plate nowadays, what with your applications and Arnold and Nabulungi's wedding coming up soon."

"My time is patently worthless at the moment. The biggest breakthrough I've had lately has been persuading Arnold that giving his wedding vows in Klingon is a bad idea. See, you're not the only one capable of changing toxic world views."

"I don't know, that might have been cute," Connor said teasingly, more to push Kevin's buttons than anything.

"It's Arnold and Nabulungi we're talking about here. You would think it was cute if he tripped on his face in front of her. I, on the other hand, am determined _not_ to have him make himself look like an idiot."

"Arnold's lucky to have you as a friend," Connor said, smothering a laugh. "And I am, too," he said as an afterthought.

_A friend who was dreaming about you blowing him half an hour ago_, a small voice in Kevin's head responded. Right, _that _had happened.

Kevin was suddenly acutely aware of how close they were sitting. And of how blue Connor's eyes were. And of how Connor was looking at him with the same kind of intensity as in Kevin's dream...

"I'm going to take a shower," Kevin said abruptly, jumping up.

Connor frowned. "I thought I heard you taking one this morning."

"You can _never _overestimate the importance of good hygiene," Kevin stressed, stalking off and leaving an extremely baffled Connor behind him.

Connor went back to his own room and shut the door with a small sigh. Despite what he'd said to Miguel, there were some things Connor wondered whether he_ could_ get past. Kevin would likely be going off to med school in a little over a year, and Connor's financial situation wasn't looking any brighter. He wasn't enamored of the prospect of being waist-deep in debt for the rest of his life just to go to college. And, well, the thought of a future without Kevin in it wasn't exactly a happy one, either.

He remembered how when times used to get dark, Arnold would always remind them in that cheery voice of his, _tomorrow is a latter day!_ So Connor supposed he would just have to wait and see what his tomorrows would bring.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Summer had swept in with blazing force, bringing temperatures that sizzled to record heights and forcing Kevin to finally get around to fixing the broken air conditioner that he had been promising to get repaired for months. To Kevin, summer meant paying off his massive amounts of accumulated sleep debt and possibly having something that resembled an actual social life again ("No offense Connor, but you don't count"). To Connor, it meant tall, perspiring glasses of strawberry lemonade, lounging around in hammocks with all the books he had long intended to read, and going to the beach – although he burned rather easily, a fact that relegated him to the shade most of the time. Kevin had laughed and said it was probably the sights Connor was more interested in anyway.

"Oh shush," Connor replied in a scathing voice, but he did seem a bit red when he said it.

Kevin and his friends prepared a ceremonious bonfire one night to burn all their year's worth of homework, exams, and study materials, to which Kevin delivered a small, impromptu eulogy. Connor, so as to not feel left out of the festivities, contributed a stack of faded old journals that he had held onto from when he was a teenager, for some reason or another. Leafing through them had made him feel vaguely ill – it was like a tangible record of all those years of self-hatred and penitence, masked by a glossy facade of metallic ink, nearly robotic sunniness, and a flagrant abuse of exclamation points. Coupled to that were the glimmers of ignorance and casual bigotry about everything outside his painfully blinkered world view, so in the end Connor decided it was best just to incinerate that chapter of his life – symbolically, at least – and not look back.

Around that time Kevin sent off his med school applications, and he made a big show of it to everyone who would listen, as well as to everyone who wouldn't. "I have a good feeling about this," he enthused to Connor, who was trying to read. "A really good feeling. And my feelings usually turn out to be right. Well, I guess Uganda was kind of an exception...but that ended up being fine, didn't it? Anyway, my main point is, the world has seen _nothing _yet of Kevin Price, and you can take that one to the bank."

"That's nice..."

"I don't think you paid attention to anything I just said."

"Something about changing the world...complimenting yourself...it all tends to blend together after a while."

Kevin lightly smacked him on the head.

* * *

A short while into the summer Kevin and Connor embarked on a trip to Salt Lake City, where they planned on staying for a few weeks to help Arnold and Nabulungi get ready for their wedding. Arnold gave them an extended tour of his home, which included various stops at his collections of DVDs, Star Wars memorabilia, and comic books ("I'm still missing a lot of back issues of _Amazing Spider-Man_, in case you're stuck on wedding gift ideas"). More than once he would segue into a lengthy tangent about some piece of trivia or soliloquize about how this or that fictional scenario was totally analogous to everything going on in their lives, resulting in Kevin and Connor exchanging confused glances while hauling around their luggage.

"There's only one guest room available, since some of my family's staying here, too," Arnold told them at their last stop. "So I guess you guys will have to share."

Connor looked askance at the cramped living space, which consisted of one full-size bed and a metal nightstand. "I suppose we could take turns sleeping on the floor," he said hesitantly.

"Don't be ridiculous. This bed is big enough for the both of us," Kevin said, already starting to unpack.

"Um, okay..."

Since it was also Pride Month, Connor considered wearing something celebratory for the occasion, and it would mark his first time observing it as a truly out individual. Part of him did, however, feel somewhat uneasy about being so openly defiant in the epicenter of a religion that had dominated his life for nearly two decades, even though he had cut his ties long ago. Kevin apparently had no such qualms, as one of the first things he'd done after getting out from the airport was to make a beeline for the nearest coffee shop.

"It doesn't feel weird to you at _all?_" Connor asked incredulously, as they walked past a group of cheery Mormon boys distributing copies of the Book of Mormon on a street corner. Kevin waved at them and continued to sip his coffee.

"Nope, it feels strangely exhilarating. Although that could just be the caffeine buzz – this stuff is really strong."

Well, Kevin didn't do anything by halves, so of course it'd be easy for _him_ to make the transition from Super Mormon to Jaded Apostate.

But Connor pinned on a couple of thematic accessories anyway, and Nabulungi took him to the local pride festival after he and Arnold's mother helped her with her gown fitting.

Nabulungi ended up being more excited by the event than even Connor was. "This is just what I always _imagined_ paradise would be like," she said to him, clapping her hands gleefully. Her hair was heavily dotted with glitter, which made Connor think of a starry night sky, and she had merrily accepted a rainbow lei and several "ally" bracelets.

"Your idea of paradise involved sweaty men walking around in drag and leather?" Connor remarked, gazing around him. "...Actually, I think you may have been onto something."

"Come on, let's see if there are any flying unicorns, too."

* * *

Kevin, meanwhile, was taking his duties as best man very seriously, and unfortunately for the rest, that meant having to endure his frequent complaining.

"Do you know how difficult it's going to be to keep this toast happy and G-rated?" he said to Connor at breakfast one morning, brandishing a notepad that was covered with his messy black scrawl. "_I remember the first time that you guys met, with Nabulungi waving her middle finger around and her father threatening to give us AIDS..._ Yeah, that'll raise everybody's spirits. Right along with all the death and disease and Arnold's fabrications to the Mormon religion and, oh, the part where I actually got violated with a book."

"You could always try making it funny," Connor suggested.

"No one's going to find any of this funny, Connor."

"Well then, just focus on all the lighter parts."

"But the lighter parts don't make any _sense_ without the darker parts," Kevin griped.

"You asked me for my advice. I'm just giving it to you."

Kevin shook his head forlornly and wrote something else down on his notepad. Then he said, "When I'm doing this for your wedding, I'm going to tell everyone about how you used your authority as district leader to make people repress their feelings."

"Who said that _you'd_ be the best man at my wedding? I have other friends, you know."

"Yeah, but _I_ give the best speeches."

"It doesn't work like that..."

"What are you two going on about this morning?" Arnold asked groggily as he entered the room, stretching his arms.

"Connor won't make me his best man, and your early history with Nabulungi is too depressing," Kevin said, throwing a rolled-up wad of paper at him.

"I don't understand..."

"Kevin's having a tantrum," Connor supplied.

"Ah, I see."

"I am not having a tantrum. You guys are jerks."

"I don't know how you put up with him every day constantly for two years. I'm already tired," Connor said into his cup of herbal tea, after Kevin had marched off in an exaggerated huff.

"It's a mystery," Arnold agreed with a wide yawn.

* * *

The day of Arnold's bachelor party soon arrived as well, which kicked off with a reunion of the former missionaries of Uganda District Nine. Having not seen several of them in years, Connor joyously hugged everyone in turn, and Arnold followed suit. Kevin trailed after them, offering courteous handshakes.

For the main event Kevin had scheduled an afternoon of laser tag, which was joined by several of Arnold's cousins and nephews ("What better way to celebrate the deep bonds of male friendship than to turn on each other like wild animals?" Kevin said brightly; Connor didn't seem quite as enthusiastic). Arnold turned out to be the best player, having played many times before, though he was probably also helped by the tacit rule of "don't target the groom." Kevin was fairly decent for his first time, and Connor was abysmal, mostly because he would always stop and apologize every time he managed to hit someone.

"I don't like violence, okay?" Connor said in response to Kevin's raised eyebrows after they got out. The winning team had hoisted Arnold onto their shoulders and were parading him around. "Even if it's just pretend."

The rest of the evening – for a while – proceeded with few ripples. One of the former missionaries, Sam Michaels, had managed to negotiate a nice discount on a penthouse suite in a hotel managed by his wife's family, complete with private chef and waiter services, so they crashed there for the night. As Kevin had pretty much predicted, the initial suggestions for nocturnal masculine activities went along the lines of "Board games!", "Charades!", and "Karaoke, followed by meditation and yoga" (the last idea proposed by Connor, which Arnold ixnayed almost immediately). In the end they settled on multiplayer video games, which was suitably un-boring enough for both Arnold and Kevin.

The background noise rapidly dissolved into a cacophony of chattering, music, laughter, and the lively sounds of "pops" and explosions emitting from the video game tournament. Kevin sat next to Connor, intensely bent on dominating every one of his match-ups. Occasionally, after carrying out an inevitably spectacular victory, he'd turn and grin in an almost preening manner, and Connor would pointedly roll his eyes, because Kevin's ego was insufferable when it came to the most trivial things. And that kind of exchange had become standard fare for their relationship. But Connor noticed that sometimes Kevin would accidentally brush up against him, or touch his arm very briefly, before drawing away – and that was _not_ as ordinary. They were little things that Connor would normally try hard not to read into, but Kevin seemed to be doing a lot of them recently, maybe not even consciously. Connor wasn't sure what to make of it, and it was a bit weird, especially with everyone else around.

There was something else vaguely bothering him, but he had no time to think about what it was because he found himself being pulled away by the others periodically, to converse and catch up on their post-mission lives. In the periphery of his vision he saw a few of Arnold's cousins, who seemed detached from the ongoing events, talking quietly among themselves in the corner, and Arnold looking over at them and fidgeting in his seat.

And that was when the night began to take a rather unexpected turn.

* * *

As much as Connor loved seeing everyone again, he had to admit that he was getting a _little_ exhausted. He'd forgotten that he had never officially come out during his mission, so he was now faced with the task of having to come out over and over, all the while getting barraged with the same four questions. (No, he wasn't engaged yet. Yes, he was gay. Yes, he had been out for a while now. No, he didn't know if Kevin was, either.)

It wasn't that any of them so far had reacted badly to the news, but Connor hadn't had to really come out to anyone in a long time, since by now he was used to living openly. Some of the others had made their way back to Mormonism after returning from Uganda (the actual, non-Arnoldian version), which was not making this situation any less stressful.

Plus he had never been a huge fan of video games, so after about an hour Connor slipped away and went to find a seat by the refreshments table, sinking into it with a weary expression on his face. Sam was there too, chatting with one of the others.

"Wine? Vodka?" the waiter queried.

"Sorry, I don't drink," Connor replied idly. For that matter, he was pretty sure neither did anyone else here, at least not anyone whose name wasn't Kevin Price. Speaking of whom...

"Has anyone seen Arnold?" Kevin asked as he approached them. "I can't find him anywhere."

"He said he was feeling nervous," said Sam.

"How can that be? You get nervous during a wedding. You don't get nervous during a bachelor party!"

Sam shrugged, furrowing his brow slightly. "I think he might have overheard one of his cousins saying something about how Nabulungi would probably divorce him in a year."

"Excuse me while I go kill someone."

After Kevin left, Sam turned to Connor with a large smile on his face. "So Connor, I bet it's going to be your turn next, eh?"

"You know, I think I _will _try that vodka after all," Connor informed the waiter.

* * *

After losing five consecutive matches of Super Smash Bros. (to Kevin and a few other guys who took these games far too seriously), Joey Thomas gave up and wandered over towards the refreshments table to get something to appease his rumbling stomach – when he was confronted with a bizarre sight.

Connor was sitting with his legs crossed on top of one of the tables, which was strewn with empty shot glasses. His tie was loose and partially thrown over his shoulder, and he was laughing a little too loudly and vacantly. He also looked like he was attempting to hit on the waiter, who appeared very bemused.

"Joeyyyyy!" Connor cried out upon glimpsing his former mission companion, holding out his arms. "C'mere, I've missed you_ so_ much..."

"We saw each other like twenty minutes ago. Connor, have you been _drinking_?"

"No! ...Maybe. Yes." Connor slid down from the table and clumsily went in for an embrace – or what Joey charitably interpreted as an embrace, because otherwise it would seem that Connor had just fallen forward haphazardly.

"You don't drink! At least, you never used to." Joey quickly pulled away, because he could tell Connor was going to be one of those overly affectionate drunks.

"Maybe I just wanted to live a little for once, okay?" Connor snapped, waving his arms around. "Don't get all _patronizing_ on me." All of a sudden his knees buckled, leading him to grapple onto the back of a chair to maintain his balance.

"Look at you – you can't even stand straight," Joey said, trying not to laugh at his friend's predicament. Although it _was_ pretty hilarious.

"I am standing just fine, it's the rest of the world that is leaning over right now."

"Come on, let's go somewhere secluded before you hurt yourself."

"Call me," Connor said to the waiter as Joey dragged him away.

* * *

"How's my family?" Connor asked, as he splashed cold water on his face. It would be nice, he thought, if his head could stop swirling around long enough for him to recover his bearings.

"The same as always." Joey nibbled at an energy bar he had fortunately thought to bring along. In the state Connor was in, Joey was afraid that if he left his friend alone for even a moment, he'd come back to find that Connor had passed out or accidentally drowned himself. "By the way, your sister wanted me to tell you that she got the lead role in her theater company's musical. Sandy from Grease, I think."

"That's so great. I wish I could see her perform..."

"I can email you the video, after it opens."

"That would be wonderful." Connor turned off the tap, his body still partially hunched over the sink, and started dabbing at his eyes with a hand towel. "She was there, you know, when my parents threw me out. I really hoped she wouldn't be..."

"You don't have to talk about that, Connor," Joey said quickly.

"Okay. Let's talk about how freaking_ depressing_ Kevin's taste in music is instead. Can we get some Beyoncé or something on here?" Connor shouted towards the doorway in a slurred voice, before stumbling and collapsing gracelessly against the wall.

"You should never be allowed to be drunk."

* * *

Kevin didn't end up adding homicide to his list of sins that evening, but he did deliver a terse yet emphatic dressing down, overlaid with a veneer of the old Mormon politeness. He felt a jolt of grim satisfaction watching as the offending parties shrank away, and dusted off his hands.

After some searching around the premises, he discovered Arnold sitting by himself in the downstairs lobby.

"_There_ you are. Seriously, don't listen to the dumb stuff your cousins said. They're just jealous that they can't have what you and Nabulungi have."

"I know. But I don't feel much like partying anymore."

Kevin folded his arms in exasperation. "All right then, how about we consider _my_ feelings for a moment. I toiled for weeks arranging this party for you, mister, so you are going to go back up there, and you are going to enjoy _every _blessed second of it. Sitting around feeling sorry for yourself is not an option."

The corners of Arnold's mouth twitched up slightly, but his eyes remained downcast. So Kevin waited, impatiently tapping his shoe.

"I'm just feeling kinda antsy about the whole thing, I guess," Arnold said finally. "What if it doesn't work out? What if she wakes up one morning and just sees me as some – some loser?"

Kevin clapped a hand on Arnold's shoulder. "Trust me, I have witnessed enough of your and Nabulungi's nauseating lovey-dovey fests to assure you that that is _not _going to happen. Besides, remember what Connor said once, about you guys being like a fairy tale couple?"

"To be honest, Kev, I'm not really into fairy tales."

"Fine, you two are like – like Superman and Lois Lane. Or Mickey and Minnie. Or Fred and Wilma. Or – or – okay, help me out here, buddy."

"Aragorn and Arwen. Han and Leia. Neo and Trinity."

"...I have no clue who most of those people are, but sure, you're like all those couples. Except better, because your love is real, and it's endured against all possible odds. I mean, she went for you when she could have gone for _me_, and as far as I'm concerned, that is the sign of either severe head trauma, or true love."

"You always give the best pep talks, Kevin," Arnold said, grinning.

"You better believe I do," Kevin said, smiling back. "Anyway, listen – your wedding is important to me too, since if you two don't get _your _happily ever after ending, then there's frankly no hope for the rest of us. Not for Sam and his wife, not for the other guys and their girlfriends, and _especially_ not for me and –"

He froze, a slow look of realization dawning on his face.

"You and...?" Arnold repeated, frowning.

"Holy _shit_."

* * *

"Do you still have feelings for Kevin?" Joey asked. He and Connor were sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall, as Connor was still finding it dangerous to walk.

"Oh gosh, not _you_, too." Connor was tempted to try going after another shot of vodka, because with the direction this conversation was heading, he really might as well.

"If you do, you should tell him. Before it becomes too late." Joey paused, then continued in a somewhat quieter voice. "Before my sister died, I'd written out a long list of things to tell her. Things that I wanted her to know, but didn't ever get around to saying. As it turned out, I never got to say any of those things to her, and I regret it every single day."

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Joey...but it's not that simple in my case. I _have_ tried to tell him, and every time...something kept holding me back."

"Is it because you're afraid he's straight?" Joey cracked a small smile. "Because _let me tell you_ – "

"No, it's not just that." Maybe it was the alcohol, but certain thoughts were beginning to creep out that had been lingering in the back of his mind for quite some time – thoughts that had previously gone unspoken, unacknowledged. "Look, Kevin is going to do something great with his life. I know he is. He has a plan...and that plan doesn't involve me."

"Oh, Connor. You can't actually believe that."

"Maybe I do," Connor said defiantly. "Kevin has a future ahead of him. I'd only be in his way."

"You have a future too, Connor. You're smart and talented and hard-working –"

"Sometimes I'm worried that that's not enough." Connor turned his face towards Joey, his eyes hard with something between guilt and resignation. "I couldn't make enough to pay my share of the rent last month. Kevin put in enough money to cover for me, and I bet he doesn't think I figured that out. I would have told him not to."

"That's not your fault. Kevin probably knows that, too."

"Regardless...what do you think would happen if we got into a relationship, and his family found out about us? You know how _my _parents reacted, but Kevin already has it so hard trying to repair things with his. And I couldn't stand by and let him give up everything for me, not after all that he's worked for...and not when I don't even have anything to offer him in return. He doesn't need me to make his life more difficult, and it wouldn't be fair for me to ask that of him."

"But you would be happy, wouldn't you?" Joey said softly.

"It seems selfish, but I would be," Connor admitted, lowering his eyes. "Because not being with him would be...completely unbearable."

He fell silent, and neither of them spoke again for a long time.

Then Joey sighed and patted Connor's shoulder. "Well, I still think you should tell him, because it might not be as impossible as you believe. And when you've sobered up, maybe you'll consider it."

Connor didn't answer. After all that...there was nothing else left to say.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

_A few years earlier..._

"Er, Elder McKinley? Are you all right?"

Connor lifted his head from the kitchen table to see Kevin Price, clad in his pristine missionary uniform with his hair impeccably combed, looking down at him with a puzzled expression. "Oh...good morning, Elder Price," he said, rubbing his eyes and peering warily at the clock. "What in heaven's name are you doing here so early?"

"I'm supposed to be making breakfast, remember? What's your excuse?"

"I came here to get something to drink in the middle of the night and then just fell asleep, I guess."

"You look like you didn't get much rest, though."

"I suppose not." Kevin thought Connor seemed a little dejected about something.

"Let me guess – hell dream?"

Connor nodded, massaging his temples. "I don't get them as often as I used to. But when I do, they can be...rather unpleasant."

"Can I ask what for?"

He worried his lip. "You might not respect me anymore if you knew. I haven't really told anyone."

Kevin shrugged, casually sliding into a chair across the table. "Try me."

That wasn't what Connor thought he would say. After about a minute of hesitation, he swallowed hard and clasped his hands together, internally bracing himself for the fallout. "Lately, I've been experiencing a lot of...impure thoughts. Gay thoughts. I haven't been turning them off since that whole debacle with the mission president." He paused, then added, for the sake of full disclosure, "And I don't _want_ to, which might be even worse."

Connor expected to see Kevin react with something along the lines of shock, or disgust, or pity. Instead, Kevin merely looked amused.

"Is that all? I was expecting something_ really_ scandalous, the way you were carrying on."

"You do believe that homosexuality is wrong though...don't you?" Connor asked uncertainly, not sure how he wanted the other boy to respond. On one hand, it would take an enormous weight off his shoulders if Kevin Price, who knew the Book of Mormon forwards and backwards and could recite parts of scripture flawlessly from memory, would just reaffirm the old prohibition, so Connor could stop feeling so terribly conflicted. It would be easier, in some respects, to have that decision made up for him...but there was that small and persistent voice telling him that that wasn't what he wanted at all.

Kevin, however, seemed to have been made pensive by this reminder. "Yeah, I guess I used to believe that. Among many other things." Connor looked at him quizzically. "Don't tell the others this, but...I don't really subscribe to anything in the Mormon religion anymore. And I don't mean just the literal aspects – which, honestly, I've always had my misgivings about." Kevin propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand, assuming a look of moody contemplation. "I've been doing a lot of thinking about how strange some of the messages they taught us are. Like the whole thing about no 'self-abuse.' Guess how many of the other guys here have confessed to breaking_ that_ particular rule? I'll give you a hint – it's all of them." He raised one very suggestive eyebrow.

"I think you've made your point, Elder," Connor said, with a tiny smile. It wouldn't exactly be appropriate for him to admit to it, but he did get a slight vicarious thrill whenever Kevin uttered something potentially blasphemous.

"Back to what you were saying, I don't know that being gay is such a big deal, in the grand scheme of things. Especially since everything that's happened here, it seems so...trivial to fixate on something that's basically harmless. And besides, a lot of the things the Bible regards as sins no longer apply to modern-day society, if you think about it."

"Logically, I might agree with you," Connor sighed, leaning back in his chair, "but I've been suppressing that part of myself for so long that not doing it only makes me feel like I failed. Like if only I'd done it longer, or tried harder, I could have finally become 'normal.' Now it all feels like a waste...and I've lost so much."

"You haven't lost everything. You still have your whole life ahead of you."

"And that's the scariest part. I don't know how to live any other way."

Kevin pondered this for a while. "Well, if there's anything I've gathered from this whole experience, it's that religion should be about providing people with hope and solace, not making them feel bad about themselves. And there _were_ several times in my life when I felt pretty down on myself for secretly questioning the church's teachings, or having doubt – and I thought it was my fault for not having enough faith. But I've come to realize that I do have faith, it's just not in the Book of Mormon, or even in God. It's in people."

"That's very beautiful, Elder Price."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is...the church was obviously making you unhappy, and you know what? That's _their_ failure, not yours. And you shouldn't continue living your life by something that wasn't personally working for you, and isn't making you happy. That's my new philosophy, at least."

"It wasn't an entirely unhappy experience. There were some parts of Mormonism that I was – and still am – incredibly grateful for," Connor said wistfully, looking down at his lap. "But you're right...most of the time, I was miserable."

He had never confessed that to anybody, not even to himself, but he knew the moment he said it that it was true. It should have been more of a depressing realization, yet at the same time, there was something intensely liberating about it.

Kevin reached over and squeezed Connor's hand in an encouraging manner. Connor let it linger there until Kevin (somewhat awkwardly) pulled away.

"Who was giving you all those gay thoughts, anyway?" Kevin asked curiously. "Someone here?"

"Oh," said Connor, blushing. "It wouldn't interest you."

"If you say so..." With a quick glance at the clock, Kevin got up from his chair. "Well, there's probably not enough time for me to prepare anything decent. I hope everyone's good with cold cereal for the third time this week."

Connor rose as well, throwing out his hands eagerly. "I'm mostly to blame for that, so let me help you."

Kevin smiled at him, and as they set the table and talked of lighter subjects, Connor was steadily becoming aware of a new feeling fluttering inside him, which was different from anything he had felt before. It was a pleasant feeling though, and maybe a little bit terrifying, a wondrous kind of ache that refused to be quelled.

* * *

When Connor hazily recalled that conversation years later through his inebriated stupor, he realized that that was probably the moment he had fallen in love with Kevin Price.

He was half-asleep when Kevin finally came back. After his conversation with Arnold, Kevin had driven Arnold to see Nabulungi (completely defeating the purpose of a bachelor party, but whatever, it wasn't Kevin's life). By the time he returned, the party was winding down, people were beginning to trickle out, and the food had all disappeared.

"What happened here?" he asked Joey, who was sitting on the floor next to Connor and seemed absorbed with something on his smart phone.

"Connor got drunk and slept through most of the party," Joey replied without looking up. "Also, I unlocked six new levels of Angry Birds." He flashed the screen proudly. "Want to play?"

"Thanks, but we should probably be heading back," Kevin said, his eyes fixed on Connor. He knelt down and tugged gently on Connor's arm. "Come on, let's go."

Connor stirred, and clung onto Kevin for support as he staggered into an upright position. After giving Joey a wordless good-bye hug, he took Kevin's hand and listlessly followed him out.

* * *

Connor was strangely silent on the way back to Arnold's. Kevin found himself in the rare position of having to be the designated driver for once. He thought about pointing out the hilarity of this, but Connor didn't seem in the mood to appreciate it, and Kevin also had a lot to think about from tonight. In particular, something he had given up believing would ever happen to him, but in hindsight seemed like the most obvious and natural thing in the world.

He was in love.

He was in love, with his best friend.

He was in love, with his best friend who was throwing up in the passenger seat of the car.

Kevin pulled over to the side of the road.

"You are officially never allowed to lecture me on my alcohol-drinking habits ever again, Mr. Lightweight," Kevin said as he helped Connor clean himself up.

Connor raked his fingers through his hair, averting his gaze in embarrassment. "I'm sorry...I've just been screwing everything up tonight. I really should have been helping you with Arnold."

"It's fine. You couldn't have done much, anyway. He was just having a mild case of nerves."

"Even so...I think I'd rather forget this whole night ever happened. This isn't going to go down as one of my more exemplary moments." He coughed forcefully a few times and hung his head.

Kevin watched him, trying to make sense of the newfound emotions that were tumbling around inside his mind. Objectively, it was hard to deny that Connor right now looked like a complete mess. He was crouched over with his face in his hands, his clothes soiled, his normally well-groomed hair wilted and disheveled. He appeared smaller and paler than usual, and was likely undergoing a lot of physical discomfort as well.

And yet, Kevin still thought he was perfect. So this was what love did to people's brains.

He suddenly realized that Connor was crying almost inaudibly. Kevin instinctively put his arm around him and drew him close.

"What's wrong?"

Connor shook his head, hastily drying his eyes with his jacket sleeve. He weakly choked out a laugh. "There isn't anything wrong. I don't know why I'm crying. There's absolutely _nothing _wrong."

He became quiet again and rested his head against Kevin's shoulder, his eyes falling shut. Kevin didn't move or let go, instead looking out into the pitch darkness surrounding the nighttime highway, as if it could somehow provide the words that were momentarily failing him. There were no other sounds but the occasional whir of a lone passing car, no other lights but those from the distant pinpricks of stars and a half-shadowed moon.

"I need to tell you something. Assuming you're not too wasted right now to listen."

"I'm listening."

"You know how sometimes in life, you get these epiphanies about the kind of person you are, or what you're meant to do, or the things that matter most to you...and it changes everything about how you used to perceive yourself in the world, maybe even your entire existence?"

"What's your point?" Connor asked flatly.

"I love you. It only took me this long to realize it, but it's the truth. You mean...kind of a lot to me."

Connor didn't respond for what seemed to Kevin like an eternity. Then, in an almost reproachful tone, "You seriously couldn't have picked a better time to tell me this?"

"Sorry. I couldn't wait." Kevin smiled, a bit sheepishly. "What's your answer?"

"...I don't know."

"You don't know...whether you love me?"

There was a certain, faltering note in Kevin's voice just then that made Connor sit up. His eyes met Kevin's, searching, unreadable in the darkness.

"I do love you, Kevin," he said at last, in a voice that was little higher than a whisper. "I know that more – more than I know anything. I just don't know whether this can work."

"It can work. We can make it work."

"What about your family?"

"My family might not like it that much," Kevin conceded. "But they don't like that I'm an atheist and a liberal now either, so it'll just be another disappointment they'll have to learn to live with. If they don't, then...I can manage."

"You don't have to take that risk, Kevin, not for me. Your family's too important..."

"It's not just about you. It's about my having a choice, too."

"And what about your career? Your ambitions?"

"Well...as long as you're not going to be distracting me all the time with shameless requests for sex, I think it'll be okay." Connor didn't seem convinced. "Look, my career is still just as important to me, but I also want you to be there, by my side. I can't see myself doing any of this without you, Connor."

"You're not worried that I'll just hold you back?"

"Of course not. Why would you?"

Connor's tone was very dull. "Because...I might not end up amounting to anything worthwhile."

Kevin made a noise of frustration. "Listen to me, Connor McKinley. You are extremely lucky that I already made up my mind about how I feel, because right now you are being stupid and self-pitying and irrational. I love you, doesn't that mean _anything_ in showing you're worthwhile?"

"It does mean something," Connor said softly.

"Anyway, that's all nonsense, because I can tell you that you are going to achieve incredible things in your life, no matter how hard everything seems right now." He took Connor's hands and held him under a direct, penetrating stare, so Connor couldn't look away. "I'm only going to be this hopelessly sentimental once, so pay close attention. You are – without a doubt – the bravest, most resilient person I know. I've always wished I could be as brave as you are, even when you're doing nothing more than trying to live your life honestly. Someday, when you become a teacher – and you_ will_ – you'll show people how to dance and express their feelings and love themselves, and every day, the world will receive a little more happiness because of you. Okay?"

Connor smiled faintly, tears glistening in his eyes. "And someday you, Kevin Price, are going to be an amazing doctor...you'll change and heal hundreds of lives all over the world, and I'm going to be so, so proud of you."

"Setting the bar a little low now, aren't we? Let's talk thousands."

They both laughed at how ridiculously infatuated they sounded.

Connor slowly intertwined their fingers together and gazed at Kevin adoringly. He was conscious of a quiet but ineffable sort of joy that seemed, out of nowhere, to come along and permeate the depths of his being, like early rays of sunlight over still waters.

He spoke again with a sudden fervor coloring his words. "You don't know how much it mattered, having you there all this time, or how much harder it could have been...you were the first person to give me hope when I thought life didn't have anything for me but pain and loneliness, and I never forgot that."

In answer, Kevin reached up and gently caressed the side of his face. Connor closed his eyes reflexively, letting out a breath that seemed to expand and fill the intervening distance.

Then Kevin leaned over, so that their foreheads were barely touching, and said in a low voice, "I'm going to wait until morning to kiss you, so that you'll actually be sober enough to remember it."

"That's probably a good idea," Connor murmured back.

* * *

Connor awoke with a mild throbbing in his head the next morning, and promptly shaded his eyes from the bands of blinding light that were slanting through the open window shutter. His dreams had been unnaturally light and sweet and ethereal, though he couldn't for the life of him recount the details of a single one. There was one, perhaps, that might have been quite lovely, and had felt all too achingly real – but that, too, must have been no more than a dream...

Through the lethargic fog that was his mind, it took a while for him to register that Kevin was lying behind him and holding him around his waist, his face nestled into the crook between Connor's neck and shoulder.

Instantly a heady rush of emotion overwhelmed him. He pulled Kevin's arm tighter around him, basking in a warmth that felt at the same time new, yet utterly familiar, a palpable sense of belonging and safety.

"You're awake?" Kevin muttered sleepily into his neck.

"Mm-hm. I have a terrible headache, though." Connor shifted over onto his other side to face Kevin, all of a sudden feeling very brisk and cheerful despite the soreness.

"Your first hangover. How adorable." Kevin brushed a stray lock of hair away from Connor's eyes; the brief gesture made Connor's heart beat a little faster. "Do you remember much from last night?"

"It's mostly sort of a blur, to be honest. I do remember that you said some very nice things to me."

Kevin yawned a little. "Hmm...I _was_ pretty good, wasn't I?"

"And now you're back to normal," Connor sighed, swatting him.

"I have a quota on these things. You're going to have to deal with it." Kevin grinned and pressed his lips to Connor's forehead. "But I meant everything."

"I did, too." There was an immense relief in having things out in the open. For a few minutes Connor became preoccupied with experimentally running his hands over Kevin's chest, just because he could, and then (after becoming a bit more daring) sliding them under his shirt. He was pleased by the startled hitches in Kevin's breathing this induced and the way Kevin's body tensed with simultaneous need and uncertainty, and it reminded Connor of how very young he still was, underneath all his bravado.

Finally Connor swung himself on top of Kevin and straddled his hips, smiling down at him coquettishly. "Now, how about that kiss..."

Connor's hands curled into Kevin's shirt collar as Kevin pulled him in and kissed him tenderly, and for a while, there was nothing else that mattered except filling all the little spaces in between them.

* * *

Arnold and Nabulungi were married the next week, on a halcyon and cloudless day in June. Arnold stuttered a bit through the beginning of his vows and mispronounced her name a few times, but as the minutes passed he gradually acquired more confidence, no longer periodically consulting the notes that were scribbled down his arm. Nabulungi held his hands patiently and looked at him as if he were the only person in the world at that moment, and Connor several times had to mentally restrain himself from turning into an embarrassing sobbing mess. Then a cursory glance at the other groomsmen told him that he was probably faring somewhat better than the rest, many of whom seemed to be teetering on the verge of emotional breakdown.

Kevin gave an uproarious, heartfelt toast that spanned the years of their friendship and managed to convey, in very sincere terms, the youthful idealism and optimism that had joined them all together, despite their many differences and hardships. It ended on the quote "Live long and prosper" directed towards the happy couple, which elicited great applause from Arnold, even with Kevin attributing it to Star Wars.

The atmosphere that day was effervescent with cheer and laughter, so much so that no one seemed to notice the furtive looks or reassuring touches that were occasionally exchanged between Connor and Kevin, in the stolen moments. They had agreed earlier that they didn't want their relationship to divert attention on their friends' big day, so for now, they planned to be relatively discreet. Connor did tell Joey in private though, and the latter was quite merciless with his _I-told-you-so_'s.

After her first dance with Arnold, Nabulungi walked over and pulled Connor up for a slow waltz, veritably glowing with happiness. She was the loveliest bride Connor had ever seen, her curly hair arranged into an elegant yet lively updo and adorned with a birdcage veil.

They glided around the dance floor in time to the dulcet melody flowing sweetly from the string orchestra. At one point Nabulungi's eyes moved towards the direction of the table at which Kevin and Arnold were sitting together. Kevin was reclined with an arm rested on the back of his chair and nodding in response to something Arnold had just said, but he was watching Connor with an unambiguous expression on his face.

"It seems that I have won my bet after all, no?" Nabulungi mused, with a slight smile. Connor blushed pink and kissed her lightly on the cheek.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

"Your favorite person in the world has returned," Kevin announced with open arms as he strode into the living room, where Connor was sitting on a mat doing some Pilates stretches. Kevin had just gotten back from his daily cross-country training regimen for the summer (which he approached with the same over-competitive drive he applied to nearly everything else in his life), and he was wearing a truly obscene pair of running shorts that Connor had always found terribly, terribly distracting. Though now that they were dating, Connor supposed that he didn't have to keep resisting the urge to sneak glances at Kevin's legs. As well as most other obnoxiously gorgeous parts of him.

"More like my third favorite person," Connor replied, leaning back on his hands (and trying not to stare too obviously).

"Oh, really? Who outranks me?" Kevin demanded, pulling out his earphones.

"My sister, and Gene Kelly."

"Pfft. I'll allow your sister, but not the non-living."

"Sorry, but until _you _pull off an iconic tap dance routine in the rain while sick with a 103-degree fever, your position isn't changing," said Connor, sticking out his chin defiantly.

"Well, I don't know about tap, but I'll have you know that I have been working on my hip-hop moves. I don't want to _brag_, but..." Kevin held out his palms and did what appeared to be a slightly questionable body roll, twist, and glide. "Just like Usher, right?"

Connor laughed and clapped a little. "So you won't be embarrassing me at any more parties, then."

"How dare you. _Some _people have found my dancing to be very attractive." Kevin rocked his hips from side to side, for emphasis.

"I don't know that it was your dancing that they were attracted to, Kevin," Connor teased, but his cheeks were beginning to get a bit flushed.

"Hm...let's just call a truce and make out," Kevin said, kneeling down and pressing a kiss to the nape of Connor's neck. They fell back against the floor in a blissfully entangled heap, and everything else was forgotten.

* * *

The news that Kevin and Connor had started dating didn't seem to come as much of a surprise to most people they knew, and it was becoming increasingly apparent to Kevin that he had been one of the last to be clued in on his own feelings. Kevin got a little annoyed when others figured out important things before he did, particularly when they pertained to himself, so he was somewhat put out by this for a while.

And maybe there wasn't much that dramatically changed about their relationship after all, at least on the surface. They still bickered about the pettiest and most mundane trivialities, which only recently turned into an unspoken game of who could withstand the tension the longest before backing the other person into some isolated area and shedding both their clothes with feverish, reckless abandon. Connor still teased Kevin for being self-obsessed, and Kevin still ribbed Connor about his anal-retentive tendencies, but there was a pronounced undercurrent of affection weaving throughout their interactions that had possibly always been there, just never really defined.

And sometimes in the occasional lulls when neither of them had much energy to expend – when they would just lie contentedly in each other's arms while watching television, or Kevin would rest his head in Connor's lap as Connor read him funny tidbits from magazine articles and strummed his fingers through Kevin's hair – there would then come a certain, quiet sort of clarity. Kevin would think about how, in those moments, he didn't feel like he constantly had to prove himself to anyone, and how the weight of pressure and expectations seemed to ease a little more from his shoulders. And Connor would reflect on the fact that somehow, it wasn't so hard for him to like himself when Kevin was around. It even frightened him a little, how deliriously happy he was.

Of course, finally getting to sleep with Kevin Price, after years of suppressed longing and imagining, made up a good portion of that happiness, too. Their first time together had been a bit nerve-racking, messy, and fraught with amateur-like mistakes, and they had laughed wildly over it afterwards, though it had still been rather wonderful in its own way. Then Kevin admitted that he hadn't had a whole lot of experience with having sex with men, so Connor had ended up taking the reins for a little while, guiding Kevin through the motions and all the places he liked to be touched. (There was a particularly sensitive spot just behind his left ear that made Connor tremble all over and stutter out a gasp whenever Kevin applied his tongue to it, and stroking certain bodily regions induced a rather adorable blush that crept down his neck and burnt luminously against his skin.) Kevin was, as expected, a very fast and enthusiastic learner, not at all chary with his affection. Kevin also noticed that Connor tended to get a lot bossier the more aroused he was, and fuck if Kevin didn't find that a complete turn-on.

After that their sexual exploits rapidly became more adventurous, usually inspired by Connor's extensive (and _very_ detailed) collection of personal fantasies. Kevin was finding it exceedingly difficult to say no to anything Connor asked, especially when Connor did it with such a seductively deep purr and coy tilt of the head – and that fact probably would have been more unsettling, had Kevin not been equally aroused by the filthy depths of Connor's imagination. They even managed to find a very much unsanctioned use for Kevin's old missionary uniform that had been gathering dust in the back of his closet, though Kevin commented that it fit a little tightly now, as he had grown more since then. Connor didn't really seem to mind.

Often times though, they would just simply make love, their thoughts flooded with nothing but the addicting sensation of skin on skin. Connor rather liked the sound of his name when Kevin breathed it hotly into his ear, his voice thick with possessiveness and desire...the feel of Kevin's abs, his back, his shoulders, rising and falling damply beneath Connor's hands as Kevin steadily thrust into him, of Kevin's mouth as it trailed wet lines of kisses along the white arch of Connor's neck and swallowed Connor's frenzied cries of pleasure...and Connor would thrill at how amazingly soft and gentle Kevin's hands were as they traversed the planes of Connor's body, each touch like an affirmation, as if saying, _it's okay, to want this. To want me._

And that was such a strange, novel feeling. For the longest time the prospect of sexual gratification, for Connor, had been something that was inextricable from shame and self-loathing, something that he was never supposed to have or want for himself. Even when he had slept with other men and had gotten more comfortable with the idea of it, there had still been a latent guilt residing in the back of his mind that he could never completely shake off, the residue of nearly a decade of repression. There had been times when he'd suddenly wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweat and with a profound sense of dread that he had been unable to fully articulate, and times when he'd just feel like retreating further inside himself whenever anyone attempted to come too close. Sometimes that had created a sort of distance between him and his partners, which a few of them had sensed and commented on, and perhaps it had caused him to come off as emotionally shut-off, without meaning to.

But with Kevin it was different. Maybe because Kevin was the kind of person who, by nature, compelled people to react to him, whether they wanted to or not. Or maybe because Kevin, who had his own checkered history with religious faith, understood him in ways Connor never intended for him to understand, and to a certain degree didn't need to verbalize...and in turn, that meant Connor could understand him back.

And whenever Kevin held Connor in his arms and kissed him, or made love to him, or even just smiled at him with that beautifully incandescent smile, it was then that Connor would truly believe that his feelings _weren't_ wrong. Because in the end, Connor couldn't believe that there could be a God who would fault him for loving someone so much.

* * *

In the aftermath, once the post-coital haze had dissipated and left them feeling tired and sticky and sated, they would cuddle lazily under a mass of blankets, or (if they were in Connor's room) while sandwiched between Connor's floral comforter and sequined throw pillows. And those times were pretty nice too, Connor thought, maybe just as good as the sex in some ways. Connor liked to sprawl out on top of Kevin's body, his arms tucked under him as he whispered a stream of soft endearments into Kevin's ear between kisses, and Kevin would always tell Connor how much he loved him, and how beautiful Connor was, as if he could somehow make Connor believe it more through repetition.

Then gradually, in that space of intimate and complete honesty, they would start to talk a little more candidly about themselves, their dreams for the future, and memories of their pasts. The last part would include the wild pranks Kevin and his siblings used to pull on each other during his Mormon years ("This one time during our family home evening, Jack asked me to get him a non-caffeinated Mountain Dew, and I brought him a _caffeinated_ one – trust me, it was hilarious") or the various times Connor had tried dating girls, to generally disastrous results ("She tried to kiss me and I panicked and locked myself in the bathroom for nearly an hour...I think she figured out I was gay though, because we spent the rest of the date listening to her Madonna CDs"). There were some memories that were carefully avoided, however – the "incident" with the Ugandan warlord was still a fairly delicate subject for Kevin, and Connor never liked to talk a lot about his coming out experience with his family. But he would go on at length about the life-changing dancing lessons he took in his youth, and about his "wonderful, adorable" little sister, whom he used to sing and dance with, and whom he seemed to miss very, very much. It felt a little bittersweet, reflecting on those previous times.

"It's kind of funny, in retrospect," Kevin said once, looking off with a distant expression. "Back when I was a teenager I did all the things I was supposed to do – I got my Eagle Scout, became president of my seminary class, received the priesthood, made straight A's, got into BYU...I was even so obsessed with remaining chaste that I never had a steady girlfriend throughout high school. Everyone thought I would go on to accomplish great things within the Mormon religion." He turned his face back towards Connor. "Now I don't know if I'll ever be good enough for them."

"But you're doing what _you_ want now. That is good, right?"

He smiled. "True."

"Anyway, my teenage years were pretty similar," Connor said reminiscently, tracing idle patterns on Kevin's chest. "My whole life practically revolved around the Church, ever since I was born. I was called to be president of deacons and teachers quorum, then first assistant in priests quorum, and finally district leader for my mission...my parents were grooming me to be a bishop someday, like Dad was."

"You were a bishop's son?" Somehow that idea had never occurred to Kevin.

"Yeah. You know the stereotype about preachers' children being prone to misbehaving?" A corner of Connor's mouth turned up slightly. "I guess there may have been some truth to it, after all."

"And now we're both heretics in the eyes of the Church," Kevin declared with a laugh, running a hand up and down Connor's back. "So much for all that work, huh?"

"But in a way, if it weren't for all that, I wouldn't have met you...so maybe it wasn't so bad."

Kevin looked a little touched as Connor moved his head forward to kiss him, and they stayed interlocked in that position for a while longer, their lips close and their hands clasped.

* * *

Kevin had finished showering and was toweling off his hair when he saw Connor poring over a stack of leaflets by his computer, looking deeply contemplative. He was also dressed in one of Kevin's college tees, and nothing else. Kevin took a few moments to appreciate the sight of that, before approaching.

"You're applying to college?" he asked, looking over Connor's shoulder. Connor started, and briefly entertained reminding Kevin about the concept of "personal space." But he decided against it when Kevin wrapped his arms around him.

"Considering it, at least. I found an LGBTQ dance scholarship that could theoretically pay for a decent portion of my tuition, if I get it." He tilted his head back to shoot Kevin an amused glance. "I guess I should probably leave out the part about me not even knowing what that term meant several months ago."

"That's fantastic. You're a shoo-in, with your credentials." Kevin leaned down to nuzzle Connor's cheek. Connor let out a small giggle and playfully pushed him away.

"Of course, that doesn't even begin to cover living expenses, costs of textbooks, and so on..."

"We'll figure something out. I'm already getting queasy just thinking about my student loans." Kevin peered closer at the screen. "Wow, are you planning on applying for _forty_ different scholarships?"

"You of all people, Kevin Price, are not allowed to judge me," Connor said, poking his shoulder.

"I'm not judging...just simply in awe."

* * *

A little later that week, Kevin received a phone call that took him by surprise. Apparently his parents were going to be in the area for a few days, for vague work-related reasons, and wouldn't it be just wonderful if the three of them could get together and have lunch some time?

Great. And his summer had been going so well, too.

Kevin's relationship with his family, as well as with most of his old Mormon friends, had been strained ever since he had returned home from mission. His excommunication had been a pretty significant contributor to that, but possibly the more damning factor had been his admission that he'd also lost his testimony while in Uganda. The way they all had reacted, one would have thought he had confessed to murdering someone (which Kevin cynically thought might have been an easier sin for them to forgive, in some respects). Eventually his family had resignedly come to terms with Kevin having the right to "exercise his agency" – even if it all but guaranteed him a one-way ticket to hell, was what seemed to be the unstated connotation there – but it didn't stop Kevin from feeling like _persona non grata_ within his former community.

It was clear, though, that his parents were clinging onto the hope that Kevin would one day repent of his godless, hedonistic lifestyle and return to the fold of Mormonism like the proverbial prodigal son, and that was something Kevin resolutely had no intention of doing, as he rather enjoyed his godless, hedonistic lifestyle. Still, he did suffer the occasional pangs of guilt recalling the distraught look on his mother's face when she'd realized that he wasn't going to be part of their eternal family...and if he were honest, there was a very small part of him that almost wished he could believe again, if only just to make things right between them.

To further complicate matters, there was now his relationship with Connor that he was going to have to explain at some point, as well. Kevin wasn't quite sure how he thought his parents would react to that, as same-sex relationships were not something that had often been discussed around the Price household. But like most Mormons, he had been brought up to believe that "same-sex attraction" was wholly unnatural and an egregious sin to act upon – so he supposed "not well" was probably a safe guess.

With those troubled feelings in mind, on the day of their proposed lunch Kevin went out and bought some flowers for his mother, partly as a preemptive peace offering, and some for Connor as well. Connor had always liked it when his boyfriends got him flowers, and became kind of gushingly cute over them.

Lunch took place in a small Mediterranean cafe on the outskirts of town, and as they settled in, Kevin's mother sighed over how _tall_ Kevin was now (and promptly told him to sit up straighter, as his posture had somehow worsened since the last time they'd seen each other).

But aside from a few pointed remarks regarding church matters (which made Kevin wince slightly), and his mother twitching visibly every time Kevin raised his mug of coffee to his lips, the majority of their conversation wasn't all that unpleasant. His father had finally stopped periodically subjecting him to the dreaded "maple donut" look, which Kevin supposed was a breakthrough of some sort. They even raised a few questions concerning his academics, and that led to some brief discussion about his progress in his pre-med courses, as well as his ideas for his senior thesis on HIV/AIDS education and health care accessibility in global communities. His parents nodded politely throughout and made a good enough appearance of being interested at least, though he could tell that the specifics were not exactly enthralling to them.

Then the conversation transitioned, as it generally did, to Kevin's love life (or lack thereof, as far as they were aware). Kevin wouldn't have found this so annoying if it weren't for his parents' persistent, unsubtle attempts to match him up with the latest girl back home, who always just _happened_ to be Mormon. Evidently they still hadn't given up on their dream of Kevin someday having that temple marriage.

"Do you remember Laura Jane, that_ very_ lovely girl who used to go to church with us?" (_Here we go_, thought Kevin as he drained the last of his coffee.) "Well, it turns out she recently got divorced – it's a very sad story, I hear, and rumor has it there was some infidelity involved...but anyhow, I was speaking with her and her family several days ago during our Relief Society meeting, and you know, she _did_ once have quite a thing for you..."

"Thanks, but I'm not looking to be set up with anyone right now, Mom..."

"Jack is seeing a nice young lady now," Mr. Price added. Kevin didn't know how this was meant to be apropos.

"Good for him."

"It does break my heart seeing you all alone," Mrs. Price lamented. "If we can't be together in the celestial kingdom, your father and I would be more at peace knowing that you still have a loving wife and family when we depart from this earth."

Kevin sighed. "Look, Mom, Dad – there's something important I have to tell you that may not make you very happy, since it pretty much goes against your beliefs, and for a while it wasn't something I totally understood, either...but like it or not, it's part of who I am now."

Kevin's parents exchanged concerned looks. "Oh, dear. We suspected this was coming."

"You...did?"

Mr. Price nodded and, leaning forward, said in a very grave voice, "It's a pornography addiction, isn't it?"

"Wait, _what?_" Kevin exclaimed loudly, causing a few heads to turn in their direction. "No! I mean, there's nothing _wrong_ with...never mind, that wasn't what I was going to tell you."

"Oh, thank goodness." _You're not completely beyond saving yet_, was what Kevin heard in his mind.

This was going to be more difficult than he'd initially thought. Kevin started pouring himself more coffee, and then said, with some hesitance, "First of all, I'm bi."

"By what, honey?"

"Bisexual. As in, swinging both ways...playing for both teams..." He accentuated his words with little air quotes, which did nothing to clear the blank looks on his parents' faces. "I like men the same way I like women, okay?"

"Oh son...don't worry about it," Mr. Price said, after a pause. "It's probably just a phase – your mother went through the same thing in college."

"I thought we agreed never to talk about that, dear," said Mrs. Price with a smile.

"It's_ not_ a phase. I also have a boyfriend now, and it's – well – kind of serious. I really need you to accept that, please."

"Are you sure, sweetie?"

"Very sure."

"I told you something like this would happen if we let him go to California," said Mr. Price to his wife.

"_Dad_, I was bi before I came here," Kevin said in exasperation. "And I know you guys think it's wrong, and that it's something I can change or just choose not to act on, but it doesn't feel that way to me."

"Now hold on a minute," said Mrs. Price, biting her lip and darting her eyes back and forth between Kevin and her husband. "I guess if this is who you are...maybe...there's nothing so wrong with that."

"You mean that?" Kevin asked, somewhat incredulously. He had expected at least a few hours of arguing and pleading before they got to this point. Kevin's father looked taken aback as well.

"Of course," she said, touching Kevin's hand. "Heavenly Father must have made you this way for a reason, and He never makes mistakes. Even if...perhaps, the Church does, sometimes." She looked around agitatedly, as if she'd just uttered a curse word.

"That's a nice sentiment, Mom," Kevin said, genuinely smiling for the first time that entire conversation. "Although I still don't believe in God, just so we're clear."

"You have your free agency, dear," she responded with a deep sigh, which was about as diplomatic a response Kevin thought he was ever going to get to that. "And I pray for your soul practically every day."

"Well, you'll be happy to hear that my boyfriend is still a good, God-fearing Christian. He even goes to church and everything." Granted, it was a pretty liberal Episcopal church, but Kevin decided he would just leave that detail out for now.

"He sounds like a nice boy, honey. Maybe you should introduce us. Right, dear?"

"I suppose," Mr. Price said reluctantly.

Kevin shrugged. "Yeah...maybe I will."

* * *

"You said _what?_"

"I told them I'd introduce you guys tonight."

Connor dropped the flowers he had been holding. Kevin bent to catch them before they could hit the floor.

"I didn't know we'd reached the meet-the-parents stage of our relationship. I'm not ready for the meet-the-parents stage!"

"I kind of figured we were already long overdue for that stage. We've known each other for how many years now?"

"Yes, but we've only been _dating _for a few weeks. What am I supposed to say if they ask about getting married, or God forbid, having kids?" Connor's eyes widened in distress.

"Connor, they're still trying to accept that I'm even in a same-sex relationship at all...I don't think you need to worry about fielding any marriage questions."

"Great, so it'll be an evening of your parents silently judging me and wishing that I were a girl. If I wanted that, I could just go to my own family reunions."

Kevin rubbed the sides of Connor's arms in an attempt at calming him down. "They'll like you, relax. Just tell them the story about how you rescued that cute little kitten that was stuck in the sewer grate the other day and they'll fall right in love."

"That _is_ a pretty good story," Connor admitted.

"Besides, they'll probably be too busy scolding me about my sinful reprobate ways to look down on you, anyway," Kevin said, dropping a light kiss on Connor's nose.

Laughing, Connor slipped his hands around Kevin's waist and firmly pressed their bodies together. "Mm, you're so sexy when you're jaded."

"Keep it in your pants until after my parents leave, alright, this is important..."

* * *

At dinner Connor seemed to be getting along just fine with his parents, which Kevin thought wasn't that surprising. Connor had always been better at making people like him, not just admire or respect him...maybe because there was a sincerity to Connor's niceness that didn't come as easily to Kevin, who often had to work at it. And unlike Kevin, Connor was more than willing to discuss and joke about old Mormon customs, and he'd even thought to prepare a Jell-O dish for dessert, topped with whipped cream and filled with shredded carrots (which Kevin had privately become sick of eating when he was still LDS, but his parents appeared to appreciate it).

Although a downside that Kevin hadn't anticipated was his mother using Connor as a means to air her grievances about how terrible a son Kevin was.

"...And sometimes Kevin forgets to return my phone calls, even though he promised he would call at _least_ twice a month. You can't imagine how many sleepless nights he used to give me, worrying about whether he had been inducted into some gang, or if he was lying dead in some alleyway overdosed on crack – or whatever horrible substances he's been choosing to poison his body with."

"That is awfully inconsiderate, Mrs. Price," Connor said sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder.

Kevin shot him a dirty look. _Traitor_.

"You shouldn't grimace so much, dear, it ruins your handsome face. And you used to be such a sweet-looking boy." She sighed, as if it were a tragedy.

"She's right, you know. You did use to look a lot sweeter," Connor said, barely keeping up a straight face.

"Oh, shut up."

"And he never used to talk back, either," Mrs. Price said to Connor, shaking her head.

Kevin dropped his head in his hands and made melodramatically frustrated tearing motions at his hair. Connor smiled half-apologetically and stroked his thigh under the table.

* * *

"Hold onto this one, dear," Mrs. Price said to her son confidentially while putting on her coat. "He has a good head on his shoulders, even if he does wear an_ outrageous _amount of pink. And lord only knows how terrified I was that you were going to end up shacking up with some drug-addicted Satan-worshipper, after all your judgment lapses of late."

"Yes, Mom."

"Just know that we still love you, son, even if you are a bi...cyclist now."

"Bisexual, Dad. And thanks."

Just before they departed, Mrs. Price informed Kevin in a cheerful undertone, "I also left a copy of the Book of Mormon on the counter, just in case you boys ever get, you know, prompted by the Spirit again."

"Oh, wonderful."

He shut the door, and immediately went to take out the stores of alcohol he had hidden away.

Connor was lying in a curled up position on his bed when Kevin walked in, ceremoniously uncorking a bottle of merlot. He set it on Connor's nightstand, along with a couple glasses, and flung himself onto the bed with a loud, long-suffering sigh that he'd been holding in all day.

"Well, congratulations, you are now one of the rare parts of my life that my parents actually approve of. I think this calls for a special celebration. _Very_ special, if you get my drift."

"They seemed like nice people," Connor said, smiling.

Kevin laughed and leaned over to kiss him. "That's only because you haven't disappointed them yet."


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Warning for some homophobic dialogue/viewpoints._

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Kevin ran an impatient hand through his hair and checked his watch again, one arm draped idly over the backrest of his seat and the soles of his shoes scuffing against the floor of the airport terminal waiting area. His flight was delayed due to the turbulent winter weather, as luck would have it, which was just another inconvenience to add to the pile of stressful thoughts eating away at his sanity lately. With a tiny, plaintive sigh, he readjusted his tie and smoothed out the creases in his new charcoal gray suit, mentally trying to block out the raucous hum of crowds skittering towards their respective gates as he psyched himself up for the ordeals he had ahead of him.

For the past few weeks he had been flying all over the country to conduct his medical school interviews, which in between the usual onslaught of schoolwork and athletic practices left him rather frazzled. Nowadays he drifted about his daily affairs feeling somewhat like a zombie (albeit an exceptionally well-groomed, good-looking one with perfect teeth and hair), half-functioning on caffeine, energy drinks, and far too little sleep (the last which he only got under threat of a sex moratorium, and when it was Connor McKinley who was proposing the idea of withholding sex, you knew things had to be serious).

Outwardly he managed to put up a suave display of composure, even if he felt a little weary and aching all over – he had, after all, prepped thoroughly for this time in his life, and he'd be damned if he lost it and fell apart at the seams now, after all his hard work. Under the surface, though, a sick feeling of anxiety was unquestionably beginning to fester in the pit of his stomach. Strangely enough it had nothing to do with the interviews, or even anything directly pertaining to his own future. At some point he'd secretly decided this trip was also the best opportunity to do something that had been mulling in his mind for a long time, and that had taken some discreet planning in order to come to fruition. He was going to attempt something completely, spectacularly, stupidly crazy, with a very probable risk of failure – but if by some miraculous chance it _worked_, it would put an end to at least some of Connor's financial struggles and might make his life a whole lot easier, in more than one respect.

This was also a stressful time in Connor's life, as he was putting together applications for various arts colleges and conservatories as well as practicing for his dance auditions. His plans were nevertheless overshadowed by a large question mark – he had won his scholarship, along with a few other ones, but he still fell seriously short of the funds he needed for the programs he was considering, even counting all of his savings and factoring in future hypothetical earnings, possibility of aid, and so forth. There was another concern that neither of them liked to acknowledge that much, but...it would be nice if it somehow worked out that they'd still be able to be together, or otherwise see each other on a regular basis. Kevin was pretty adamant that Connor should seize any opportunity to pursue his passions, even if it meant being apart for a while. But a selfish part of him hoped that that wouldn't have to be the case.

That led to today, and the clandestine mission Kevin had decided to undertake, which – in theory – was relatively straightforward. Kevin's plan was to drop by Connor's old home, talk to his parents, and persuade them to help pay for his college education. The idea came to him upon seeing how his own parents had come to accept their relationship after meeting Connor in person. Maybe if he told Connor's parents about how hard their son was working, and how much happier he was now that he'd accepted himself, they'd feel guilty about how badly they'd treated him in the past. Kevin also had always felt weirdly a little responsible for Connor's predicament, since it had been indirectly because of him that Connor had decided to come out to his family, even if it had ultimately turned out for the best.

Connor certainly would never ask his parents himself. But Kevin couldn't help but be hopeful that maybe his own presence could appeal to some romantic sentiment concealed deep within the recesses of their hardened, gay-hating hearts. After all – if he had learned one thing from Disney films and musicals when he was a boy, it was that the power of true love was greater than anything else on the planet, and always won out in the end. Even now, Kevin still kind of liked to believe that. Plus it was nearly Christmas, supposedly the season of family, love, and forgiveness...that had to count for_ something_ in his favor.

Kevin had made up his mind to keep all this a secret from Connor for now, because he figured that it would spare Connor the unnecessary pain if the meeting didn't go well. Also, Kevin had a pretty good idea of what Connor's reaction would be if he knew what Kevin was up to, and that was one clash Kevin would prefer to delay for the time being.

The announcement of his flight's arrival crackling over the PA system jarred Kevin out of his thoughts. He shouldered on his carry-on duffel bag and took one last look at his phone, seeing that Connor had texted him "Good luck!" followed by a string of smiley and heart emoticons. That was just too cute.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days Kevin soldiered through back-to-back interviews at Harvard, Columbia, and Yale, flying by on sheer force of his natural charisma. At nights, when he finally got a moment to himself, he'd call Connor up in his hotel room, and it was nice to hear the sound of Connor's bright laughter as he regaled Kevin with some cheery account about the newest song he'd just heard, or the latest dance he'd just choreographed, or how he'd thought that he'd lost his beloved tap shoes and sparkly vest one time and spent the rest of the day in a bereft state of mourning, until he happily discovered them later underneath Kevin's bed. The conversation would eventually turn to less...innocent things, but on the last day Kevin was forced to cut it short due to mental exhaustion (and also the fear that he wouldn't be able to look Connor's parents in the eye tomorrow).

He glanced over the maps and directions to Connor's old home on the plane ride the next day, the knotted feeling in his stomach returning with a vengeance. If he had still been Mormon, he would have entrusted his faith in the Spirit to guide him onto the path of success. Now he just had himself, for better or for worse.

Truthfully, there wasn't much he even knew about Connor's parents, other than that they were highly religious even by most Mormon standards. And quite obviously they weren't the most open-minded people around. After Connor had first confessed he was suffering from same-sex attraction, while struggling through puberty, they had presented him with a pamphlet containing one of Boyd K. Packer's terribly homophobic speeches to read until he'd memorized whole passages of it by heart. Kevin only knew this because there had been several nights, just after Connor had started living with him, that he would hear Connor murmur lines from it while tossing and turning in his sleep. Connor hadn't had any recollection of doing so when Kevin finally asked about it, but it did solidify Kevin's private resolve to help Connor through whatever lingering issues he had.

The plane touched down in Idaho, Connor's home state. Kevin had given himself approximately five to six hours before he had to rush to catch the next flight back home. Hopefully it wouldn't take that long to get Connor's parents on board with his plan, if they deigned to listen to him at all.

The shuttle dropped him off at a stop in Madison County, and he spent a good twenty minutes navigating the area with his iPhone's GPS before arriving at his destination. By all appearances, Connor's former home was...well, perfect, for lack of a better word. It boasted extensive front-yard landscaping with an immaculate lawn, well-tended rhododendrons, an expansive patio and gazebo, even a small water garden and birdbath. The presence of a couple luxury vehicles in the driveway and large backyard swimming pool hinted at a fair degree of affluence. He supposed in retrospect that wasn't much of a surprise – Connor had vaguely alluded to once not having to worry so much about money. Plus he had been the one to pay for most of the food and toiletries back on their mission, after supplies had started to become dangerously scarce.

He walked up the flagstone pathway, his initially self-assured pace slowing in apprehension as he neared the front door. Maybe this _wasn't_ such a good idea. Trying to convert nonbelievers into Mormons had been difficult enough...trying to reason people out of their lifelong prejudices was a challenge on another level entirely. Especially in this case.

He was Kevin Price, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath and straightening out his collar. The word "impossible" was most certainly _not_ in his vocabulary. Anyway, if he could charge into a Ugandan warlord's camp with nothing for protection save for the grace of God and (tragically non-magic) temple garments, he could suck it up and pull off this one miracle for his ridiculously adorable boyfriend waiting back home, who deserved to have nice things happen to him.

_Oh, screw it._ He finally rang the doorbell and steeled himself for whatever was going to materialize from behind that door.

After a few moments, the door cracked open. Behind it was standing a young girl with blonde, plaited hair, who couldn't be older than seventeen. "May I help you?" she asked, sounding puzzled. This must be Connor's sister, he realized. She had the same blue eyes as her brother.

There was no backing out now. Kevin quickly introduced himself as a friend of Connor's from mission (which was true enough) and asked to speak with her parents.

Her confused expression melted away into a very wide, cheery smile. "Come in, come in," she said, beckoning towards him. As he stepped inside she took his coat, scarf, and bag from him and hung them up on the rack. "I've been dying to meet you. He told me a lot about you, the last time he was here..."

"He did?" Kevin's curiosity was instantly piqued. "What things did he say, exactly?"

"Oh, you know, all sorts of things...something about being the 'most incredible person he's ever met...'" She angled her head and subjected him to an appraising glance-over, giggling a tiny bit. "Although I must say that you are even cuter than he described."

Kevin gazed around the foyer, which was large and had a weirdly sterile feel to it, apart from the ornate flower pieces and bits of religious iconography. "You guys still keep in touch?"

"We email each other, every now and then," she replied, looking down and fiddling with a ring on one of her hands. "Our parents are a little strict about us not communicating...Dad especially. He thinks Connor would be a bad influence on me."

The idea of Connor being a bad influence on anyone...Kevin raised his eyebrows.

She led him through the hallway and into the living room, which was as magnificent as the rest of the house. The center of it sported an expensive-looking Italian leather sofa and ottoman, and a large plaque was mounted over the fireplace, emblazoned with the words, "Choose the Right."

Kevin looked for Connor's picture among the multitude of framed family photos hung up on the walls and found nothing; it was almost like he had never existed.

In walked a prim, handsome woman in a floral print dress, who Kevin could only presume was Connor's mother. Her blonde hair was drawn back into a no-nonsense bun, and she was hefting a tray of freshly baked brownies in her oven mitt-clad hands.

"Aren't you supposed to be finishing your quilts for the Laurels?" she asked sternly, addressing her daughter.

"I've already made _three _of them, Mom," Connor's sister replied. "Besides, we have a visitor. This is one of Connor's friends from mission, Brother Price."

"Um, Kevin or Mr. Price is fine," Kevin said, rubbing his neck. Mrs. McKinley frowned at the mention of Connor's name but didn't say anything.

"Maybe we can sit down and talk about what being on a mission was like. And Connor," Connor's sister said, peering hopefully at her mother and then back at Kevin. "You _do_ see him, right?"

"You can talk _after_ you've completed your scripture reading for today. I'm sure that as a returned missionary, Mr. Price can tell you how important it is to have a thorough understanding of the gospel."

"It is...very important," Kevin agreed helplessly, because Mrs. McKinley was observing him with a wary look of scrutiny.

"Yes, Mom," said Connor's sister, glancing disappointedly in Kevin's direction as she departed from the room. He heard her traipse upstairs, singing softly to herself.

"Actually, I'd like to have a word with you about something, Mrs. McKinley," Kevin said once they were alone.

Mrs. McKinley smiled at him, almost eerily courteous. "Do take a seat, Mr. Price. And why don't you try some of my brownies – I've worked all afternoon on them."

Kevin was about to refuse politely, but she was looking at him in a way that clearly said refusing was not an option, so Kevin took one. He nearly gagged from how sweet it was.

For the next half hour Mrs. McKinley talked to him – or _at_ him, rather – about a whirlwind of topics, ranging from Mormon theology to her duties as Relief Society President to several of the hot-button political issues of the day. Kevin could hardly get a word in edgewise. He did find out that Connor's father was some sort of important executive who was currently off on a business trip. "So many responsibilities, along with his church callings. It's been keeping him away more and more lately," she sighed. "It does get lonesome sometimes with just me and my daughter here, so it _is_ always nice to receive visitors."

Kevin nodded numbly as she rattled on, his power of speech eluding him. At times she'd fidget and fix her hair distractedly, which was a little reminiscent of Connor's old tics back when he was closeted and repressed. Kevin didn't know why, but he was starting to get the impression that she had been desperate for some kind of company.

Finally she stopped talking to take a sip of her water, and in that interim Kevin grabbed the opportunity to burst out, "Mrs. McKinley, I really came here to talk to you about Connor. Your son."

Her smile faded.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Price, but we no longer have a son."

"That's what I wanted to talk about. You see..." Kevin took a breath and launched into the spiel he'd rehearsed, about how Connor had come to live with him at his apartment, and how Connor was saving up to go back to college for dance and was hoping to become a dance instructor, maybe one day opening up his own studio. Mrs. McKinley's mouth grew thinner as he went on, and Kevin elected not to try his luck just yet by mentioning that they were currently in a relationship. At the end he wrote a number down on the back of a napkin representing the loan amount he was requesting on Connor's behalf and slid it over to her.

"Dance is not a sensible occupation," she said slowly. "Especially for a man."

"But it would mean a lot to him. Dance is what he was born to do. It's who he is," he pressed. "If you still care about him at all, you can at least do this one thing for him, to help him achieve his dreams. I know he'd eventually pay it all back."

"It's not that we _don't_ care about Connor, but he's made his choice to lead a life of sin," Mrs. McKinley said placidly, folding her hands on her lap. "His lifestyle is simply incompatible with everything we believe, and he knows that. I'm sure you're well versed in your scripture too, Mr. Price – as you may recall, sexual sins are 'most abominable above all sins save it be the shedding of innocent blood or denying the Holy Ghost.' Alma 39:5."

"I also know Christ's commandment was to love one another – 'as I have loved you, so you must love one another.' John 13:34," Kevin shot back, feeling a twinge of annoyance. "Maybe you could try a little harder at that one."

"You think we _haven't_ tried?" she asked, with a sudden inflamed note in her voice. "Do you think it's been easy, losing our only son? It's been hard for us, too. And I did once try calling him, to try and work things out...and he hung up on me."

"Well, I don't blame him. You were the ones who cut him off in the first place."

"Because he was being _selfish_," Mrs. McKinley said with a dismissive wave. "You must understand, Mr. Price, that our family is very influential within our area – it wouldn't have been appropriate to have a _practicing_ homosexual in the family, you see? It would have sent such a terrible message, to all the other families and their young children. And there had already been so much talk about his failure in directing his mission, that whole mess with all of you poor boys being excommunicated – an absolute _disgrace_, they called it. Asking us to accept his perversion on top of all that was simply too much."

She sighed, pausing her tirade to take another long sip of water while Kevin sat back, momentarily rendered speechless. Then she went on, in a somewhat less abrasive tone. "But we _did_ regret some of the things that were said. I suppose we could have been less harsh. And if he's willing to come home, we would be more than happy to take him back and find him all the help he needs, to fix him properly this time. There have been stories of Mormon men struggling with same-sex attraction who were able to have successful mixed-orientation marriages to women – there are ways to overcome such obstacles, if one puts enough faith in Christ and the gospel – "

"I'm afraid that's not good enough." Kevin leaned forward in his seat, clenching his fists in an effort to maintain his cool. "Do you realize that not once in this entire conversation did you ask how he was, or whether or not he was happy? You're not really trying. Otherwise, you would have known by now that he's already in a committed relationship – with me – and he doesn't need to be _fixed_."

"I see," Mrs. McKinley replied, rather stiffly. "So you're the one who – who seduced poor Connor. He was always such a good boy before. And we were so proud of him, for having the strength to endure his affliction."

"Denying it was killing him inside."

"He knew what it meant to have to suffer in service to our Lord," she averred without hesitating, "that if he stayed righteous, Heavenly Father would mercifully relieve him of his burden in the next life, in reward for his devotion."

Kevin laughed. "That is the biggest pile of baloney I have ever heard. No one should have to wait until _death_ to find happiness."

"Are you so arrogant to think that temporary happiness with _you_ is worth more than eternal salvation with our Lord and Savior?" she asked coldly.

"I don't know, you'd have to ask him. But I think he believes in a God now that wouldn't force him to choose."

"Well," said Mrs. McKinley, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It would seem clear that he and I have very different views of God."

Kevin folded his arms. "I guess so."

They sat for a while in stony silence. Kevin had the feeling that they'd reached an impasse. He was about to get up and leave when Mrs. McKinley spoke again, with a strange intonation.

"Nonetheless...your visit has made me understand one thing." Kevin looked at her in inquiry. "You are a very handsome man, Mr. Price. I can see how he might have been...tempted."

Before Kevin could react, her hand had reached over to touch Kevin's knee. Kevin stared at it blankly as everything else seemed to grind to a standstill.

"Connor doesn't need to know," she said in a soft voice, almost half to herself, well-manicured fingertips starting to massage the inside of his thigh. "And my husband should understand how hard it gets – it doesn't deceive me, I _know_ all about the girls he's been paying to fool around with while he's away."

Her eyes snapped to his, a question burning in them. "That wouldn't make this so wrong, would it?"

Kevin gazed at her in abject horror for a few interminable moments as it started to sink in, what she was asking of him. Then at long last he managed to regain command of his limbs and bolted upwards, dashing for the hallway.

"I apologize – that was _terribly_ sinful of me – I wasn't thinking," she pleaded after catching him later in the foyer, but Kevin refused to be calmed.

"Look, I don't know what the hell your _damage_ is," he exclaimed, throwing on his coat and scarf, "but don't take it out on Connor. He didn't do anything wrong."

"It's not like that," she insisted, wringing her hands. Tendrils of hair had escaped from her formerly perfect bun, giving her an almost wild look. "We only did what we thought was best to help him – to – to set him on the right path."

Kevin's mind was impressing upon him to just shut up and leave instead of instigating things further, but at this point he could not give less of a crap about being civil.

"No, you know what? You were his _family_. His sexuality might not have been something you understood, or even agreed with. But you _didn't_ have to make him feel like he was worthless. You didn't have to leave him so scared and alone that the only person he felt he could turn to was some boy he'd only known for two years. That's not what good Christians – what good _parents_ are supposed to do. And I came here because I thought I could get you to remember that he was someone who once meant something to you, whom you would have wanted to make happy." Kevin pushed his hand through his hair in frustration. "Well, maybe he never mattered, and I'm just wasting my time here. But I want you to know that he does matter to me, and that we belong together, and that...Connor just deserved more from you guys. He deserved _better_."

A stricken look overcame her face, as if he'd just slapped her; he paused to shuffle on his shoes and prop open the door. "Anyway...that's all I had to say. Have a merry Christmas, I guess."

He went out the door, without looking back.

* * *

_So much for the power of true love_, Kevin thought dejectedly as he trod back down the walkway, with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. Needless to say, narrowly avoiding being felt up by Connor's rabidly Bible-thumping mother was not how he'd hoped this day would turn out. Losing his temper probably hadn't helped matters, either. But it did now make a disturbing kind of sense how Connor had ended up the way he had. Was this a hint of how he might have eventually become, trapped in a possibly loveless marriage and twisted with hate, seeking out affairs with complete strangers? It was a depressing thought.

Snow was starting to fall in lazy drifts as Kevin headed for the bus stop, his breath forming foggy patterns in the air. The whole affair had left him feeling rather discontent. In the end, he might have just made things worse between Connor and his family, when he'd only been trying to make things better.

Behind him he heard the patter of urgent footfalls and the sound of his name being called out. He stopped and turned around, seeing that Connor's sister had raced after him. "Mr. Price, wait!" she implored breathlessly, finally catching up to him. "I'm sorry...I was listening in on some of your conversation with Mom...and, well, I have something for you."

She handed him a white envelope, which Kevin opened to find filled with dozens of creased bills. "It's, um, not much, really, but maybe it'll help Connor out a little." She then slipped something off her finger and held it up to him. "Oh, and...could you give him this from me as well? It's an Irish Claddagh ring. My grandmother gave it to me for my birthday – it's been passed down in our family for generations, you see – but I'd like for him to have it. He might have a better use for it than I do right now."

"To be honest, I didn't really tell your brother that I was coming here."

"You don't have to tell him it was from me," she said. "See, it's supposed to be a relationship ring – the hands on the ring symbolize friendship, the heart love, and the crown loyalty. I've been wearing it on my right hand, with the tip of the heart pointing out, which means that I'm romantically unattached. But if you wear it with the heart pointing towards you," she continued, turning it over, "it shows to the world that your heart has been claimed by someone." She smiled at him, significantly. "I thought he might like it."

"That's pretty neat. I'll give it to him." He pocketed it. "I'm sorry I don't really have anything to give you in return."

"Is Connor happy?" she ventured.

"I like to think so, yes."

Her smile broadened. "It's been so long since I've seen him happy. That's all I need to know."

A thought occurred to him just then. He took out his wallet and thumbed through it, finding a recent photo taken of him and Connor together. "You can have this, if you want. And, uh..." he said, scribbling a couple lines on the back, "here's our address, if you ever have the chance to visit. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you someday."

"Thank you, Mr. Price." There were tears in her eyes.

"It's Kevin. And it was very nice to meet you..."

"Lillian. Lillian McKinley. Please take care of my brother for me."

"I will," Kevin said.

* * *

It was snowing heavily when Kevin and Connor got out of the car a couple weeks later, having pulled up in front of Kevin's home in Utah. They were going to spend Christmas with Kevin's family, which included (to Kevin's consternation) most of his extended relatives, who were very Mormon, and to varying degrees unlikely to be totally accepting of either their relationship or his apostasy. By that time Kevin had reluctantly pushed his disastrous meeting with Connor's mother to the back of his mind and locked it away. There was no use dwelling on past failures.

Connor smiled wordlessly at him, his hair lightly dusted with white flakes, as they walked hand in hand up the driveway. Kevin was even starting to get affected with giddiness himself. Despite his twenty-four years of age, there was a part of Kevin that tended to emotionally revert to an eight-year-old at the sight of colorful lights and flashy character displays. On a sudden whim he blithely grabbed Connor by the arms and whirled him around a little. Connor giggled and held onto him tightly as they stumbled around in the snow.

"You're so _silly_," Connor said once they stopped spinning, pecking him gaily on the cheek.

Inside the house they mingled a while with Kevin's siblings and cousins as they all traded updates about their lives and careers, which entailed the inevitable torrent of announcements about recent church callings, engagements, and pregnancies. Kevin's mother dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief and made a remark about how wonderful it was to see the younger generation getting married and starting their own families. She then cast an expectant look at Kevin and Connor, who had yet to make any such announcement.

"Uh – well – it's not technically _legal_ for us to get married yet..." said Kevin, feeling rather put on the spot.

"You and your excuses," Mrs. Price sighed, shaking her head.

Kevin and Connor volunteered to prepare desserts for the Christmas dinner, which had the added benefit of getting them away from the strange looks and whispered remarks their presence was eliciting from several of Kevin's relatives. This turned out not to be the greatest idea, as it eventually deteriorated into them arguing spiritedly over the ingredients, then pelting each other with sprinkles and breaking into a minor frosting fight around the kitchen, and somehow it all ended with them passionately making out on the counter. At one point Kevin's brother Jack walked in, rolled his eyes at the both of them, and took a cookie as he walked out.

Then it came time to exchange gifts. From his parents Kevin received a framed picture of the Mormon temple. He had to admit that it was a vast (and subtler) improvement over the gift they had given him last year, which had been a self-help book on how to let Jesus back into his life. Connor got a sweater. "If it makes you feel better, brown's not really my color," Connor whispered, laughing quietly under his breath. Connor had wrapped a garland of red tinsel around his neck like a sparkly boa, and Kevin had to suppress an amused smile, recalling a certain memory.

For his gift Connor had given Kevin an impressive Mickey Mouse-themed stethoscope slipcover that he had produced and sewn by hand ("for when you're a sophisticated Harvard med student"). "I also made you _these,_" he said, flashing a long roll of what looked like coupons, made out of pink and lavender construction paper and decorated with lace and glitter. "They're IOUs," Connor explained, pointing to one near the top. "See, this one entitles you to free tango lessons, courtesy of yours truly."

"I'm 'entitled' to do the things _you've_ always want us to do?" Kevin asked in mock protest. "I'm not seeing how this is fair."

"They get progressively dirtier the further you go down," Connor noted with a slightly lascivious wink. "_This_ one, for starters, gets you a free lap dance..."

"I take it back – this is the best gift I've ever gotten," Kevin said, reaching over and ruffling Connor's hair affectionately. Connor beamed and did a pleased shimmying motion with his shoulders.

Kevin had hoped that getting Connor the money for his college fund would have functioned as his present, which obviously hadn't panned out, so he had gone with his back-up idea, a gift basket of stuffed animals, musical DVDs, and flowery scented candles. "Because you have such issues with light switches and all."

"You're hilarious, Kevin."

Suddenly he remembered that he still had to pass on Lillian's ring. Connor's eyes lit up when he opened the box Kevin had set it in. He seemed to be well familiar with the various meanings.

"Once you're engaged, you switch it to your left hand and can use it as an engagement ring. Are you proposing to me, Kevin?" Connor asked teasingly, flicking out his hand. "Because I expect to be appropriately wooed first."

"Nah...when I propose, you'll definitely know."

"Oh, so you _have_ been thinking about marriage."

Connor could be incredibly sneaky at times. "Maybe a little."

Connor laid aside the crumpled wads of gift wrapping and, after casting a furtive look around to see if they were alone, happily crawled over to offer himself up for a kiss, which Kevin obliged, pulling Connor's body snugly onto him. Connor hummed blissfully as he tangled his hands in Kevin's hair.

"Hey guys, dinner's ready," Jack said, popping his head into the doorway, only to find that Kevin and Connor had begun to sprawl out over the floor, enthusiastically ignorant of everything around them. "Oh, for _Pete's sake_."

* * *

After settling back into their apartment, they laid in bed one night picking out Netflix movies to watch on Kevin's laptop, which had become something of a weekend ritual for them. The heater had fizzled out earlier that day, so they'd piled on extra blankets and pillows and snuggled up next to each other for warmth, with a bowl of popcorn and a thermos of hot cocoa.

"I can't believe you _still_ have a hang-up about R-rated movies," Kevin remarked, after Connor had wrinkled his nose at a few of Kevin's film suggestions.

"That's not true. I let you talk me into watching Fight Club with you and Arnold that one time."

"Yeah, and you kept clinging to me and jumping into my lap for most of it. Even when nothing violent was happening."

"I don't recall that," Connor said innocently, his fingers toying with the buttons on Kevin's shirt. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said abruptly, throwing off the blankets and sliding off the bed with an airy bounce. "I still need to check on the mail. Everyone from mission said they would send Christmas packages."

"We can never have too many cookies around here, I suppose. Or holiday-themed Poptarts."

"Be back in a few." Connor blew Kevin a quick, flirtatious kiss and skipped out the door.

Several minutes later he returned, looking decidedly more sedate. He was staring at a small piece of paper in his hands, his brows knitted together.

"I don't understand," he said softly, in a constricted voice.

"What is it?" Kevin asked, setting aside his laptop along with the blankets and striding over to Connor's side.

"My parents, they sent me a check...it's probably enough to cover the rest of my college expenses, for a couple years at least."

"That's..._great_," said Kevin, who was rather surprised himself. "Isn't it?"

Connor looked up at him, with an oddly pained expression in his eyes. "I can't accept this. Not after everything."

"Connor, don't be stupid. Just take the money."

"But what does it mean? They can't possibly know that I'm applying to college right now."

"Maybe they just had a random, conveniently timed attack of generosity," Kevin suggested with an overly casual shrug. "Hooray, Christmas miracle."

"All of a sudden? And how did they even get our address?"

"That's a good question..." Kevin trailed off, suddenly realizing. Oh, right. He had given that to Lillian.

Kevin's face must have betrayed him just then, because Connor was looking at him with no small amount of suspicion. "You had something to do with this, didn't you?"

"If I tell you, will you promise not to be too mad at me?"

"That depends. Kevin, what on earth did you _do?_" Connor's mouth had formed a hard line, and his hands had fallen to his hips. Under other circumstances Kevin would find that transition extremely hot, but...

Kevin gave in and told Connor a rough summary of his confrontation with Connor's mother (minus the part about her coming on to him, which was still a little too creepy for words). Connor's reaction was along the lines of what Kevin expected.

"Kevin _Price!_ I – cannot – _believe_ you," he exclaimed. "Of all the foolhardy, reckless things you've done – "

"Look, I knew you'd be upset, and I'm sorry that I went and did it behind your back, but please understand that I did it because I love you, and you deserve this." He accompanied this with pursed lips and clasped hands, which he hoped would mollify Connor a little, along with his most contrite _how-can-you-be-mad-at-this-face_ expression.

Connor softened slightly, because his boyfriend was so irritatingly cute. "You're not off the hook just yet. But...I guess this means I should call up my parents."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes...I think so." Connor looked away for a brief moment, then turned around and left the room again.

Kevin was sitting on the bed when Connor came back, his expression inscrutable.

"Hey, how'd it go?" He moved over to let Connor sit down and put his arm around him.

Connor sighed, sinking dully into Kevin's side and pulling up his knees. He no longer seemed angry, but was radiating a subdued aura of sadness. "We only talked for five minutes, and I don't know if things are going to change that much between us. Maybe you and Lillian helped change their minds a little...but they made sure to clarify that this doesn't mean they approve of my 'lifestyle.'" He shrugged, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. "I don't know what I was expecting, honestly."

"That they'd act like parents?" Kevin offered quietly.

"I guess." Connor glanced up at him. "My mother did tell me to send you her regards, whatever that means."

Kevin suddenly grinned and leaned in closer, thinking of what might alter Connor's mood a bit. "Want to hear something funny, and somewhat disturbing?"

Connor blinked confusedly at the seeming non sequitur, then grew increasingly horrified as Kevin told him what else had transpired between him and Mrs. McKinley.

"My _mother _made a move on you?" The aghast look on his face was probably worth the telling alone, Kevin thought. "And when she knew that you were my _boyfriend?_"

"That...pretty much sums it up."

"And she kicked _me_ out for 'disrespecting family values,' when who knows how many affairs she might have been having behind Dad's back?" A hint of outrage was starting to creep into his voice.

"She may have also accused your father of cheating on her with call girls."

Connor blanched and sat back in astonishment. "I don't believe this."

"Sorry that your parents are super messed up, Con. No offense." Connor had buried his face in his hands. "You okay?"

"It's fine...I just feel a bit ill..." Connor raised his head back up and exhaled deeply.

Kevin rubbed his back and then picked up the check Connor had dropped. "In a strange way, maybe this is supposed to be sort of an apology. Or at least, an admission that they weren't completely in the right for what they did."

"It's possible, I guess...though I don't know if I can really ever forgive them," Connor said doubtfully. He crossed his arms around himself, staring pensively at some invisible fixed point ahead of him. "I mean, the past doesn't seem as painful anymore...but maybe that's just because _I'm_ different now. And I've learned that my life has a lot more meaning, and value, than I thought it did. That there are people who will love and accept me, even when I don't feel I deserve it." He laid his hand on Kevin's at that part, and after a pause continued, "But deep down there might always be some part of me that's a little hurt, and maybe a little angry...and I'm not sure that can just go away."

He turned towards Kevin with a small, hopeful smile. "At the same time, I shouldn't let the bad parts of my life define me, right?"

"I don't think you have," Kevin said, giving Connor's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Connor responded by throwing his arm around Kevin's waist and nestling into him. "So are you going to accept it or not? It would help a lot, you know...especially with all those criminally expensive arts schools."

"Well, I wasn't going to accept it at first, but seeing as you_ did_ go to the trouble of braving my terror of a mother for me, you silly, wonderful boy...and defending my honor, even." Connor pressed a gentle kiss to Kevin's mouth. "I love you so much."

Kevin smiled, brushing his thumb against Connor's cheek. "I love you too, sweetheart."

They didn't discuss it much more after that. Connor pulled a couple blankets over them and rested his head on Kevin's shoulder as Kevin started the movie. Every now and then they would exchange silent little glances that seemed to say nothing, and everything, at once, and sometimes Connor's eyes would drift closed as Kevin softly kissed his hair and forehead.

And everything, in those quiet intervals, was perfect.


End file.
